Welcome to Ghost Town Read online

  t.w. : domestic abuse, physical abuse, child abuse

  the paper thin walls

  never hid her screams.

  the paper thin floors

  never hid the dragging

  he did to her from the

  master bedroom

  to the living room.

  with his yelling,

  “shut the fuck up bitch,

  you wanna act like a fucking man?

  then take it like a fucking man.”

  the paper thin house never

  hid their children’s torment.

  crying

  screaming

  at the top

  of their

  little lungs

  “daddy stop.

  mommy

  mommy

  mommy”

  hiccup hiccup hiccup

  and she stayed.

  even after the neighbors called.

  even after the cops asked,

  if she was sure he didn’t touch her.

  and in this paper thin house

  we heard her lie.

  i

  fell

  into

  the

  bathtub.

  he gave her another beating after the cops left.

  she thought we called and so

  she cracked our car window

  from the second floor.

  they eventually moved out.

  he left her. and their screaming

  kids never left me.

  their screams haunt

  me with every creaking

  of the second floor

  she was always angry

  and it took awhile for

  me to understand

  if happiness should be

  in the home, then where

  can she find it?

  it’s been over ten years,

  i hope they found a home

  where their strength is thicker

  than these paper thin walls.

  this title is a song lyric by lana del rey

  i had a friend once

  when i was a teenager.

  she reminds me of a

  lana del rey song.

  sad

  fun

  happy

  and free

  we shared ice cream,

  talked about boys,

  and nothing mattered,

  not even the shattered pieces

  of our battered souls.

  we never really spoke about

  what we went through

  growing up.

  but there was a

  a silent understanding.

  that

  we

  were

  the

  same

  she only ever told me

  one secret that i will

  take with me to the grave.

  she moved far away.

  back to the place where

  her soul was tainted.

  and i would be lying if i

  said i don’t miss her and

  wonder about her sometimes.

  and you’re probably thinking

  that i can find her somehow.

  i

  don’t

  think

  she

  wants

  to

  be

  found

  i hope your ghosts

  aren’t scaring you,

  now that you’re

  back in a place

  that haunted you.

  - this is what i say when i imagine our first reunion

  you never judged me

  when you saw me kiss

  girls with lips that were

  still trying to figure out

  what they liked.

  you opened the window

  and let the air of acceptance

  come right on in.

  - love is love is friends is love

  when i drive by orchard beach,

  i still think about you and our

  last summer together. we never

  said goodbye when you left

  across the coast. if you find this,

  yes this is about you. i miss you.

  and sometimes i see pieces of you

  in my new friendships.

  - this is how i know you haven’t left me

  two teenage girls riding the d train on our

  way to coney island with our dreams hidden

  in our backpacks while life was unfair

  to us. we laughed at the smallest things and

  everyone knew we were two girls from the

  bronx. we shared our food since we didn’t

  carry much in our pockets but life was priceless

  with chucks on and teenage heartbreak.

  your eyes will always

  remind me of the ocean

  we imagined new york city

  would have one day

  t.w. : stalking

  the creepy dude

  that people probably

  heard of.

  and i was the one

  he followed.

  we took a class together

  that i never remember

  seeing him in.

  till he asked me in the

  hallway if i could help him.

  there was a time

  when i was very naive,

  and i said yes.

  there was something

  about him…

  my

  skin

  crawled

  with

  dislike

  he gave it about two weeks before

  he started showing up everywhere.

  calling

  texting

  emailing

  showing up

  emailing

  calling

  texting

  showing up

  EVERYWHERE

  i caught him one time staring at me

  through the classroom door

  while i was in another class.

  hey are you okay?

  why don’t you pick up your phone?

  do you want to study in the library?

  i was thinking about you today.

  i followed you to the train station,

  but you didn’t catch me.

  i found out that he took the year off

  i was graduating and it made me

  feel more safe for this last one shook me.

  i broke up with my girlfriend,

  to see if you wanted to go out

  on a date with me. i told her about

  you, she knows what you look like.

  she was in the same class

  where he was staring at me

  from the classroom door.

  there is nothing romantic

  in chasing and scaring

  someone who doesn’t

  want to be with you

  following me isn’t going to

  make me fall to my knees

  and sing for you to take me

  paranoia now has a place

  in this body i call home.

  although you aren’t the root

  of this paranoid blooming;

  i wonder if i’m being watched

  by men who think it is okay

  to barge into my home when

  i slightly open the door.

  the couple that

  i personally still know

  but no longer talk too.

  the happiness that once

  belonged but no longer

  comes along with them.

  and it feels like i don't know them at all.

  one day she

  found out

  that he had

  other children

  before he met her

  and he kept

  them a secret.

  he had them out of wedlock while he was a pastor.

  i will never

  forget the day

  that she slept

  over my house

&
nbsp; after that happened.

  she decided to

  stay with him

  and have his baby

  after she had

  miscarriages with

  their babies.

  she curses his name

  to the wind while

  their baby sits in

  the living room

  hearing all of this

  and all the while

  she sleeps next

  to him. letting

  everyone know

  how he’s this

  good for nothing

  h u s b a n d .

  and their child has

  to suffer through

  all of this.

  misery really does love company,

  for they deserve one another.

  what goes around comes around

  and oh how he lives with those secrets

  every

  single

  day

  a sickness has overtaken his wellbeing

  and staying no longer hurts him. the

  only damage being done here is to

  your innocent daughter.

  - children paying for their father’s sins

  kicking and screaming that no one

  ever stays. no one lingers long

  enough to hear your hurt filled

  tongue. your home is now a toxic

  waste and although you abide

  there, no one takes up residency.

  for years i had nothing to

  say to you and what your

  words put me through.

  you thought telling me

  what to do would have

  me scramble to my feet.

  i grew up, you see.

  i need you to know that i

  flourished into mayhem and

  though i never amounted

  to anything according to

  you, i’m here. and i will

  always tell my story.

  family;

  sometimes they don’t

  come with the same

  dna as you.

  and when she

  betrayed our group

  of families all because

  of money,

  i was grateful years

  later that we didn’t

  share the same blood.

  some people will walk

  right by you as if

  they didn’t spend

  christmas

  birthdays

  new years

  thanksgiving

  and

  a

  whole

  childhood

  together

  her children paying

  for the sins of their

  mother, hurting their

  childhood friends and

  yet destroying themselves.

  i heard that money is the root

  of all evil and evil came between

  her marriage and the relationship

  with her children.

  you’re all so close one day

  and then the next so far away.

  and along the way this family

  broke dreams of forever friendships

  that were supposed to last a lifetime.

  one day a friend married and said

  “man they aren’t here”

  i know my friend, i know.

  were you

  conditioned

  to not

  remember me

  in the

  confinement

  of your

  mother’s home?

  sixteen, walking up the

  steps of school. i saw you

  and screamed, asking what

  you were doing here. you

  didn’t recognize me.

  - i sought you in hiding

  we, the children, were forced to

  deal with abandonment at the

  hands of our parents. instead

  of blooming into the forever

  tree, we went back to the

  ground and replanted ourselves

  into different roots.

  - here’s to all the events we’ll never attend together

  when i was twelve, i asked my mother

  what happened. why don’t they spend

  sunday’s with us anymore? she said

  something’s i will not understand.

  when i was sixteen, i asked her again

  what happened. she said some people

  grow apart when their attention lies

  elsewhere.

  when i was twenty-seven, i asked one

  last time what happened. she said

  sometimes things take over people’s

  lives and she grew in that obsession.

  it is not healthy to like things in excess,

  look what it’s done to her, her children

  cannot stand her.

  inmate number ___________

  “he wanted me to call you

  cause he got locked up

  and he don’t remember

  your number. i have him

  on the other phone.

  he said he misses you and

  that he’s sorry.”

  what did he do?

  “he ___________ and ___________ someone”

  sometime after, i received a letter

  from inmate number ___________.

  till this day, it is the longest

  letter anyone has ever written to me.

  his letter was full of desperation,

  longing, regrets for being so

  ridiculous to the point where

  he will see an orange jumpsuit

  for many years to come.

  “i don’t understand myself.

  how this shit got to me and i did

  this, yo i don’t know. i’m here for good.

  it’s not that bad as people said.

  sometimes i think about your laugh,

  and i fucking swear to _______ i can

  hear it, that shit calms me.”

  many paragraphs later he told me

  “don’t respond to this.”

  i didn’t.

  i appreciated that he was realistic

  to the situation.

  things weren’t going to change.

  i was so young and he wanted to

  set me free.

  thank you inmate number ___________

  your letter sits in

  a box filled with

  unkept memories

  - just like you

  in setting me free,

  i walked out my

  own jail cell.

  - a hood mentality

  sometimes i miss our friendship.

  i wonder if the system

  moved you. if you’ve

  received a lower

  sentence. the sky isn’t

  blue like it used to be,

  the summers are a lot

  hotter now. they don’t

  feel like the summer

  where i last saw you,

  sitting on a bench

  with time ticking by

  to our last goodbye.

  t.w. : homophobia

  it all started

  with a rumor.

  “she’s lesbian”

  they treated me

  as if i had a

  contaminated

  disease.

  the congregation

  says amen.

  it was a time

  in my life where

  i was trying to

  figure myself out.

  but instead of being

  welcoming, they

  rejected me.

  my identity

  was a curse

  to them.

  a congregation full

  of 100+ people.

  what god do

  they serve?

  their unkindness

  and unjust attitudes,

  filled with spite

  and disgust.r />
  venom in their

  saliva, spilling

  through their

  tongues.

  they hissed

  through their

  rattlesnake

  bodies,

  “esa es la hija del

  ministro ______.

  esa es una asquerosa.”

  “that’s the daughter

  of minister______.

  she’s disgusting.”

  killing the youth

  of our nation.

  for i wasn’t the only

  one they killed.

  rotten souls rotting other souls

  which become the domino effect

  of christian culture. yet praying

  to an almighty god. hugging our

  brethren and telling him “i love you”

  while venomous tongues sting others

  with lies of how our beloved brethren

  has gotten another woman pregnant.

  and oh how the ticking of the

  tick tock tick tock keeps ticking.

  for we sit pretty with our legs

  closed, waiting for a sibling

  i never had.

  you tell me to open my

  mouth. i say no. you tell

  me again to open my

  mouth, i once again say

  no. you laugh in my face

  and call me sinner. the

  lioness reminds you that

  i am not the daughter

  of this congregation.

  judgement be upon thee

  who rest on killing teens

  - gretchen 1:7

  the music i listened

  to was telling me

  to do things.

  the art i looked at

  was distracting me

  from your vision.

  the books i read

  were opening me

  up to other beliefs.

  the people i associated

  myself with were

  destructive.

  me running away

  at fifteen was a

  shot to my father’s

  r e p u t a t i o n .

  my existence was