pages and pages of messy words

i’ve found my old notebooks—

the letters of an angry little girl.

there are tears in them, and loneliness.

a disappearing cat, a rollercoaster, a crush. 

stamped on nearly every page is a pathetic message—i’m never enough. why am i never enough?

i read on,

now my memories call.

our distant cousins are coming—

they’ve came. 

the promised of pierced ears has finally arrived,

i’m sitting in the chair, i’ve picked out the studs, and oh—

the pain,

just a moment

but then my mother calls—

something about dinner (or is it laundry?),

and i’m awake again.