If Candy Wrote Poetry

If Candy Wrote Poetry: Candy, from Candy, Sweet & Sour penned this poem in one of her notebooks.

To almost dance

--Sharpies to hands,

with the always of me

enough--cut naked

ever feel something?

At birth

beginning

the just falling boxes

Birthday.

Eleven--struggled, cigarette out-stretched

Ninnies happen, and I gifts got.

~~smelled hate

Mama--teenage clothes, broken freckles

old beautiful she skin

like always, normal a time again

Do the old live on?

Mama?

usual be I eyed silly

Rebel teenager life

because mama pretty, fair

never a saw would

with just hands met by designing

start on under

to up mirror I

up at outta up--sneaking

for nobody out there?

and all this, my Abracadabra, the slow brother’s party

from tough on only one arm, porch girls

looking mirror,

Daddy on my mind? On that mind?

Psycho--so him steal more

old, too, I made light

And the background, that porch party

So Dale, my Ricky--younger

trying damn old eyelids

The blur is, I, high

--love a shorty and I be down

Remember I had marker eyes

drama Mama, I?

The scissors in bags for his eyes

& drama house

It old so I uplifted brothers

felt little,

screamed as a girl, eleven,

and fixed herself like love

Eyeing the bare junkyard sideways,

into the stealing dawn.

No one. No one, now.

Some day, some one!

Written from the perspective of Candy, from Candy, Sweet & Sour

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