Read Online Kiss of Broken Glass by Madeleine Kuderick - Free Book Online
Authors: Madeleine Kuderick
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about
how Skylar looked when she left,
with her wide smile and her
infinitely happy hands.
So I force myself to read the poem
because I want to see how heavy
this weight must’ve been. How
getting it off her chest could make
her float like a feather.
And I just gotta say,
it was pretty freaking heavy.
This is what she wrote:
I made the first cut razor thin,
a gentle kiss on virgin skin,
then traded nights of peaceful sleep
for kisses that grew dark and deep,
until the slices on my thighs
soon withered hearts of butterflies,
and now there’s nothing left but this—
my aching for that empty kiss.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
There’s a Battle Going On inside My Head
On one side there’s Skylar,
putting the mirror in my hand,
telling me to take a real good look at myself.
On the other side there’s Rennie
and all the Sisters of the Broken Glass,
breaking the mirror and handing me the sharpest piece.
And Skylar is saying:
Stay strong.
Keep fighting.
Just admit you need help.
But Rennie is saying:
Have fun.
Feel good.
There’s nothing to admit.
And even though Skylar’s a two-ounce Tweety Bird
and Rennie’s a ten-foot, spider-legged giant,
they start to go at it, beak against claws,
and there’s no telling who’s gonna win.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
Before Bed, I Make Two Lists
I figure the first list is going to be the longest
since that’s where I’m writing all the facts
that prove I’m not really addicted to cutting.
The second list is supposed to be short.
With the one or two things I hate about it.
Like the lying part.
And the laundry stains.
But that’s not exactly how it turns out.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
Five Facts that Prove I’m Not Addicted
1. I don’t do it every day.
2. I can stop at just one cut.
3. I’ve never tried crazy places like my feet.
4. I don’t go very deep.
5. I quit once. For the whole summer!
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
Five Reasons That’s Total Bullshit
It’s all I think about.
It’s all I think about.
It’s all I think about.
It’s all I think about.
Even in my dreams.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
First Prayer in Forever
I can’t sleep thinking about those
stupid lists and I’m getting sick
of counting cracks in the wall.
So I start thinking about what
Jag said the other day.
How God could be whoever
I understand Him to be.
That doesn’t seem as pushy as I
remembered from my old church
with those stiff wooden pews
and all that Our Father and Kingdom Come crap.
It seems sorta . . . I don’t know . . . inviting.
So I figure, what the hell. Maybe I should pray.
What’s the worst that could happen?
Who knows? It might even put me to sleep.
So I do that sign of the cross thing.
Backward probably. Then I close my eyes
and sort of talk in my head. Like
Hey God.
It’s Kenna.
Remember me?
I’m stuck here
in this psycho ward.
But you already know that.
Anyway . . .
You’re probably pissed at me
for the whole cutting thing
because of the Bible business
that says how my body’s supposed
to be a temple and all.
But I don’t feel like a temple.
I feel like a shack.
And here’s the thing.
Once I get out of here,
there’s gonna be triggers
around every corner,
and blades in my purse,
and voices in my head
telling me to use them.
And I’m sorry to say this,
but I probably will.
That’s just the way it is.
I don’t feel like I have a choice,
or another road to take, or
how Skylar looked when she left,
with her wide smile and her
infinitely happy hands.
So I force myself to read the poem
because I want to see how heavy
this weight must’ve been. How
getting it off her chest could make
her float like a feather.
And I just gotta say,
it was pretty freaking heavy.
This is what she wrote:
I made the first cut razor thin,
a gentle kiss on virgin skin,
then traded nights of peaceful sleep
for kisses that grew dark and deep,
until the slices on my thighs
soon withered hearts of butterflies,
and now there’s nothing left but this—
my aching for that empty kiss.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
There’s a Battle Going On inside My Head
On one side there’s Skylar,
putting the mirror in my hand,
telling me to take a real good look at myself.
On the other side there’s Rennie
and all the Sisters of the Broken Glass,
breaking the mirror and handing me the sharpest piece.
And Skylar is saying:
Stay strong.
Keep fighting.
Just admit you need help.
But Rennie is saying:
Have fun.
Feel good.
There’s nothing to admit.
And even though Skylar’s a two-ounce Tweety Bird
and Rennie’s a ten-foot, spider-legged giant,
they start to go at it, beak against claws,
and there’s no telling who’s gonna win.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
Before Bed, I Make Two Lists
I figure the first list is going to be the longest
since that’s where I’m writing all the facts
that prove I’m not really addicted to cutting.
The second list is supposed to be short.
With the one or two things I hate about it.
Like the lying part.
And the laundry stains.
But that’s not exactly how it turns out.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
Five Facts that Prove I’m Not Addicted
1. I don’t do it every day.
2. I can stop at just one cut.
3. I’ve never tried crazy places like my feet.
4. I don’t go very deep.
5. I quit once. For the whole summer!
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
Five Reasons That’s Total Bullshit
It’s all I think about.
It’s all I think about.
It’s all I think about.
It’s all I think about.
Even in my dreams.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
First Prayer in Forever
I can’t sleep thinking about those
stupid lists and I’m getting sick
of counting cracks in the wall.
So I start thinking about what
Jag said the other day.
How God could be whoever
I understand Him to be.
That doesn’t seem as pushy as I
remembered from my old church
with those stiff wooden pews
and all that Our Father and Kingdom Come crap.
It seems sorta . . . I don’t know . . . inviting.
So I figure, what the hell. Maybe I should pray.
What’s the worst that could happen?
Who knows? It might even put me to sleep.
So I do that sign of the cross thing.
Backward probably. Then I close my eyes
and sort of talk in my head. Like
Hey God.
It’s Kenna.
Remember me?
I’m stuck here
in this psycho ward.
But you already know that.
Anyway . . .
You’re probably pissed at me
for the whole cutting thing
because of the Bible business
that says how my body’s supposed
to be a temple and all.
But I don’t feel like a temple.
I feel like a shack.
And here’s the thing.
Once I get out of here,
there’s gonna be triggers
around every corner,
and blades in my purse,
and voices in my head
telling me to use them.
And I’m sorry to say this,
but I probably will.
That’s just the way it is.
I don’t feel like I have a choice,
or another road to take, or
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