PUTA: a poem

You look the same
in your fifth grade
ID picture
but different

I look at you now
as you slump
against the back of the
green, metal chair
and wonder
where did that open-eyed
wild-haired
bright-faced ten-year-old
go?

You didn't have bangs back then
maybe the fringe hiding your right eye
is what makes you evil
maybe the hair gel seeping into your brain
makes you ask,
"are you on your period?
is that why
you gave me detention?"

the little girl without the eyeliner
would never have said the word "pad"
out loud
without trying to
smash chin
into chest
bright red
mortified
wanting to disappear.

so where is that
sweet
little girl?
her frizzy black hair
now flattened and gelled
her wide eyes
now covered in shadow
her mouth now spewing
spanish words i
shouldn't know
the definitions of
but i do
unfortunately

well i might be a
PUTA
but i'm still the
PUTA
who tries to wipe the slate
clean after every nasty comment
you can't resist yelling
i'm still the
PUTA
that wants to read your words
even if yesterday they were
swears screamed at top volume

not every puta can do that

WHEN I WAS FIVE

When I was five

I decided the trees

were all boys or girls

(tall trees were boys)

(short trees were girls)

When I was five

I hated to read

but halfway through

Ramona Forever

I hid under blankets

with a flashlight

(couldn’t put it down)

When I was five

I chopped off dolls’ hair

and cried

when I realized

it wouldn’t grow back.

Impatient,

I cut my own hair

then baby brother’s hair

until Mom hid the scissors

(thank God).

When I was five

David threw sand

stung my eyes

broke my heart

(we got a divorce)

When I was five

I rode horses all day

tiny cowboy boots

dry heat

When I was five

ballet was my love

I danced through gym class

“Leah, pass the ball!”

(can’t hear you,

busy spinning

my hands in the air).

When I was five

I wore a shower cap

to school

My mom couldn’t stop me

so she gave up

(can you blame her?

I was five).

When I was five

Mom went away

and Dad fed us peanut butter and jelly

for all three meals

Mom was not pleased

“It’s pretty healthy food, Leah,

tell your students that,”

he insists

when I call him

to ask for details

about when I was five