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yelhsa 6d
I was always a chunky little girl. After the incident at nine years old. I hit puberty, way too soon. That little girl started having curves. The kids at school called me “fat girl.” I hated going clothes shopping. I could already hear my mom say, Ashley, really you sized up again. Stop eating too much, you want to look like those big ladies! She was talking about a show she saw on TV. I wasn’t lucky enough to look like my mom or at least her side of the family. She’s 4’11" and weighs about 109. I was a sixth grader about 5’2" weighing 120. I hated my mom at that time. I don’t want to point fingers, but it was her fault. She had separated from my dad and fell into depression. So, we ate our feelings away. When I see pictures of myself at that age. I say, man, my mom was being a hater, I was just curvy. Well developed. I wore oversized sweaters, which didn’t help my case, made me look ten times bigger. I was that “fat girl”! Till one day, I started calling myself BIG.ASHLEY but I preferred BIG.A. It didn’t stop others from calling me other names. I didn’t care though, well sometimes I did. I wished I had a flat tummy; I wished I looked like the woman in the magazines. My number one bully, the one that helped distort my imagery. I called her mommy; she called me fat girl! She would say it nicely, I think she was just a big meanie.
A poem from a CHapbook I wrote.
yelhsa 6d
I CAN’T STAND WHEN PEOPLE ARE YELLING.

IS YOUR CAPS LOCK BUTTON BROKEN?

MY BRAIN IS SAYING,

THEY’RE BELITTLING YOU; YOU’RE A JOKE TO THEM.

I DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW TO FUNCTION.

*****!

OH, NOW YOU’RE USING WORDS TO OFFEND ME!

I’M THEIR OPPONENT,

I’M ABOUT TO SWITCH,

I SEE RED,

THAT’S NOT HOW YOU GET THROUGH ME!

BUT TO TELL YOU THAT, IT WON’T BE EASY.

GOTTA GATHER MY SCATTERED THOUGHTS NOW.

THANKS A LOT, I WORK HARD TO MAINTAIN A CLEAR MIND.

YOU TELL ME TO USE MY WORDS, AND YOU CAN’T UNDERSTAND ME WITH ALL THE YELLING BUT WHEN I DO. YOU START YELLING!

WHY?

OKAY, DEEP BREATHS, LETS COUNT TO TEN; ONE, TWO, THree,

FOur, We ARe GETting CLOse, FIve, Six, SEven, I HAte IT, CUZ It STays IMbedded, EIght, Nine,

ten...

i made it, i do not get it. as i lay in my bed, i closed my eyes. that was a lot of energy you took out of me. i'm drained and exhausted, why do you always have to yell at me for? my head hurts, i hear whispers. they are telling me, you will be okay, tomorrow will be a better day. goodnight baby demon, you are great, we love you.
A poem from a Chapbook I wrote.
yelhsa 6d
Where to begin? These emotions drive me insane! To the point I want to stand in front of a train!

I know sounds crazy, right?

They say I’m dramatic; why are you crying? Because my shoes looked ugly, you’ll

Never get it mom!

Girl relax, you look like you are about to pop an eye vessel. I was mad that my baby sister grabbed my colored pencils.

When I would be happy (my favorite mood that would come once in a blue moon)

My heart would race, the best adrenaline.  

I hated this one mood, even the mood would irritate me!

Like, ugh, get away from me. Don’t even look at me.

I remember when I was ten, I was so irritated I threw them the Christmas tree.

I was always fighting, fighting over the littlest things,

But to me it felt like my world was ending.

I am a big crybaby, everyone thought it was so funny...

Theres a picture of me; we were at a party, face red, mouth wide open,

I was hollering, tears running down my face holding a yellow balloon. To this day I wonder why I was so upset; who took the picture? It looked like I really needed you!
Stop crying!

It’s not a big deal!

You’re being dramatic!

You’re too much!
A poem from a chapbook I wrote.
yelhsa 6d
Riding bikes, playing tag, and chasing the ice cream truck down the street. It feels like a dream. I always think of the what if’s, I always daydream of another reality. A broken family, I was assigned to them, intentionally. My mother, I love her dearly. My Father, I admire him, his work mainly. They created me. They named me Ashley. So why did they hate me? Was it purposely? No, I cannot blame them, it was inevitable. My mother came with a package to her wedding. HER SON! I had not met her son for about nine years, I regret getting on that plane. I gotta keep reminding myself it is a “****** if I do, ****** if I don’t.” situation. I shouted “PLEASE!” I screamed “STOP!” and I always wondered why me? I was nine years old; he was nineteen. I do not shed tears anymore, but I did develop a borderline personality. I was nine years old; I should not have to be wondering. But I wondered why everyone abandoned me. I wondered why my innocence was taken away; very abruptly, so suddenly. He is family; that is disgusting, but he said he loved me. Yes, no one believed me. My mother’s package came with instructions; instructions that were not legibly, but who am I to speak on that? A nine-year-old, who rode bikes, loved playing tag, and chased ice cream trucks down the street; a nine-year-old who then developed a borderline personality.
A poem from a chapbook I wrote.
yelhsa 6d
Originally my spawning date,

was March 13.

They’re in a hurry to spawn a demon,

I will admit we are always fashionably late,

Excluding tea parties.

No offense,

But who would want to be

A Pisces?

Not ME! Actually,

My moon is in Pisces.

I read my label, the description of the family I was being spawn to,

And it said:

YOU HAVE BEEN SPAWN; YOU WILL HAVE TWO HUMANS AT FIRST AND THE OTHER TWO WILL BE BIRTHED, DON’T BE ALARM THATS A THING HUMANS LIKE TO DO:

Both of your humans, which you will call parents, Aquarius,

Even your little sister; proceed with caution she will be an airhead.  

The scapegoat of the family; your other sister she’s a cancer.

So, you see,

Little baby demon, they are desperate, they really need you! In their own words “We want HER!”

I love them all, I really do, I just hate that they don’t want to understand me

Not one bit, they pick and choose!

I hate it over here; everyone is always so salty.

Always in a mood. Then they wonder why I'm always grumpy, always ******* up my groove.

This demon is tired and a bit confused, we apologize for the inconvenience,

We don’t accept returns once the package has been tampered with.

Thank you for spawning with us, we hope to see you soon.

Just my luck, I'm stuck; never been scared to lose!
A poem from a chapbook I wrote.
yelhsa 6d
Someday, I will be heard
For now, I will talk to the birds
I miss being outside
This is a warmup, I am trapped in my mind
I have used this place to escape
Someday, I will get what I crave
For now, I will exchange
these thoughts that have been
floating in my brain.

— The End —