one.

Most people enter the world head-first.

Kari Jo Reid. 6 pounds. 2 ounces.

Born feet-first.

As I fell upon this earth, doctors called it a breech birth. Medicine was god that day as the surgeons sliced away. From the moment we're born, tears are defined as the norm. We're meant to find the world discomforting.

This you already know, little miss Kari Jo.

Then you're in the arms of your mother. Into your arms, I can go. In your arms, I feel safe from harm. Into your arms, when I'm alone. In your arms, I felt you die.

But I can't ever cry for you. I can't let the world see my weakness. I'm supposed to be tough. I'm a young, independent woman. But I can't make it without you.

I miss you, mom. I never told you what you needed to hear. Oh dear god, why didn't I tell you? I'm sorry, mom. Please come back. Please. Don't ever leave the world. Don't ever leave your girl. Please sedate my heart rate. Please abate fear and hate.

"She can never come back."

This you already know, little miss Kari Jo.

The doctor slapped my ass and said, "It's a beautiful baby girl." I remember none of this, of course. I didn't exist back then. Life does not begin at conception. Life does not begin at birth. Life begins at realization.

"Your mother was in a car accident."

One day, you exist. One day, you don't. Some days, you love. Some days, you won't.

6 pounds. 2 ounces.

Don't let me go. I don't love you, but I need someone to hold me. My bowels are empty, excreting your soul.

There are nights I hear him cry out her name.

No two snowflakes are the same.

I want to comfort him, but I don't know how. I don't know how. I don't know how. Twist the knife, when alone. Twist the knife, and feel bone. I'm a strong, independent woman.

I'm just a girl.

They cut the umbilical cord. They cut her support. They took her away from me. To set me free? I am not free. I cannot breathe. I fly high on you. My face is turning blue.

What do I mean?

What do I mean?

Inflict it with a different tone. This you already know, little miss Kari Jo.

Then you're in the arms of someone who loves you. Then they separate you.

I pricked my finger, Dad. But I didn't cry. I sliced my finger, Dad. But I don't know why. When I gazed upon life, that crimson tide, I never felt more complete.

I remember the times she sang lullabies to me. Her soothing voice, like the wind blowing through the treetops. The cradle will rock. The cradle was robbed.

"Kari Jo, your mother was in a car accident."

You're a strong, independent woman.

I'm just a little girl.

"Kari Jo." I can't hear them. "Kari Jo." I can't hear them. "Car accident." I can't hear them. "Car accident." I won't hear them.

6 pounds. 2 ounces.

113 pounds.

It's okay if you ignore me, it really is. I don't mind anymore.

Why aren't you waiting by the phone? Wait for me to call you. You know I will. Go ahead, and let it ring. I no longer feel the sting. Pick up, oh won't you, please? Pick up, I've scraped my knees. Really, I don't mind anymore. But I will not be ignored.

She sang lullabies to me. Her voice soothed, like the wind blowing through the treetops. But it never happened. I didn't exist then.

"Kari Jo, your mother was in a car accident."

She's gone.

"She can never come back."

two.

Is it Saturday? I hoped the day would come soon. I'm sprawled, dead inside in my room. Arms reach out, extend. Knees, his plunge and bend. I cannot feel for sure, but I know I am still pure.

P.J. Harvey sings, Come home is my plea, your home now is here with me.

I know there's a beauty in silence.

Your heartbeat frightens me. A constriction then I cannot breathe. Our hearts beat bloody pulp. An abstraction meant to deceive.

Dad brushes the hair out of my face and kisses me. I love him. I hate him. I'd die to sedate him.

"How ya doing, kiddo?" he asks as he brushes the hair out of my face and kisses me on the forehead.

Hold me closer, let me die. Speak to me a last goodbye.

"This must be tough on you."

No shit. No blood. No luck. No love. Waiting for life. Waiting for death.

Should I call Beth?

"It's okay to cry. It doesn't make you any weaker."

Beth wasn't really a virgin, but close enough. Sure, she had sucked dick a few times, but it was her father so it doesn't count.

"This loss is devastating to both of us."

I hate Beth. I hate death. I hate God. I hate you. I hate myself.

Then he broke down.

"Oh dear God, why did you take her from us?"

That's when he broke down and cried for me. I won't cry. Crying doesn't make you weak, but it makes you look that way.

Don't worry. No one will ever cry for you, Nadja.

Hold me, Aaron. I heard that you cried the other night. That's quite alright. You're sorry. I'm sorry. But I'm lying when I say, "Let's be friends."

I'm hoping we can become lovers again.

"I realize now, it wasn't because I thought I liked you more than I liked other people. It's because I thought you liked me more than other people did."

Fuck you, asshole.

Then he broke down and cried on my shoulder. I cradled him in my arms the way she cradled me in hers. He sobbed harder, I held tighter. A little baby in my arms. My little baby in her arms.

"How could God let this happen?"

The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.

I bleed for you. Can't you see that? I bleed my liberal heart for you. My bleeding heart liberal. My heart beats bloody pulp. Beating blood. Blood can't be beat.

He tastes me. His lips pressed against my soft flesh, swallowing me whole. My empty soul vortex into a black hole. Drop by drop, my life becomes his.

Passing clots. Passing stones. A child comes into its own. Who protects who? You were my protector. Now I cradle you in my arms. Into my arms, you can go. In my arms, you'll be safe from harm. Into my arms, when you're alone. In my arms, I won't let you die.

Don't ever ask my advice/opinion/thought again. You don't care what I have to say. You just want to reaffirm your own beliefs, justify what you want to do. Fuck you. I'm a human being, too. I have feelings and emotions. I am locomotion. I cannot be stopped. I am a rock. I am a stone. I am alone.