Alyssa Sharpe

kids.

when i have kids, i will teach them the important things in life. 
those things that no one bothered to tell me.
here is my letter:

dear kids, 

when you’re driving—
don’t text and drive.  
not because you’re going to get in a wreck, because knock on wood, there is no guarantee that will happen,
but because when you are not paying attention, you drive too fast.  
and when you’re not paying attention, you miss the obviously placed cop car.  
and you get pulled over.  
and no one has time for another $100 ticket.   
only drive in the left lane if you are committed to the rules of the road.  
otherwise drive in the right, and go no more than 10mph over the speed limit—that way you have time to slow down if you see that obviously placed cop car.  
55mph is the best for your gas mileage. 
speed up to change lanes.  don’t slow down. 
i didn’t raise no pussy.
if someone is not following these rules,
get angry, but not too angry.
when you’re angry, you drive too fast, and you stop paying attention.
and you get pulled over.
only get angry enough to let off steam.  
and know that this life will make you angry.
so the best way to let off steam is in your car.
so go the speed limit,
or pull over,
and scream.  
no one can hear you.  and no judge in the world can convict you.  
remember to do the things i have told you.
and if someone thinks that their way is right,
don’t yell at them for being stupid. 
(stupid people are like people in cars.  
they don’t know how to hear anything, but the music in their own minds)
don’t fight for your rights against a stupid person, 
you will not win.  
manipulation is the only tactic that is proven to work against these people.  
so practice early. practice hard. 
i’ll teach you all that you need to know. 

and in conclusion,
if someone calls you ugly,
or gets mad at you because you’re pretty.
remember that it doesn’t matter,
as long as your doggy loves you.  
you can’t win with people. 
they will always assume the worst in you.
but dogs, they will not assume—
just remember that dogs are naked,
so don’t take them too seriously.

if you have to spend your first 20 years learning to love yourself, 
the next 10 finding yourself,
and the remaining 50 laughing at yourself, 
i will support you.
because
hey, kids— 
i’m right there with you.  

love, mom

let go.

so here is the deal, i have been let go before. 
i have been treated like a white trash, stupid, whore.
i have been strung along, and hated for nothing special.
and i have been your second-hand, bitch on call.  

i have been your mirror.
your ecstasy.
your tease.
your me.  
your everything.

i might have been your “yes man,”
if i believed in a little less-than me-man.  
a little less bitch.
a little more girl,
and i’d have bought you the whole world.  

i still can’t believe the way this earth has worked.
like everyone lives through the same fate.
like everyone has no reason to go on.
like everyone gets successful—a little too late.

so lets get drunk.  
get wasted.
tell all the fat girls
to not waste it.
or make haste, it’s—
shit face-ted.
you haven’t tasted,
shit this basted.

it makes more sense to turn it up.
it makes more sense to me,
to pretend like i can make a difference.
even if i am more replaceable than you could ever be.

so please let me go.
let me go,
i don’t want you anymore.
say it ain’t so.
walk away.
walk away.
let me go.

life will always happen the way it should. 
a change would do me good.  

her.

she owns you like you own that bookshelf. 
the one with half the original harry potter books—
the other half belong to her.
the shelf with the books you have never read,
that somehow managed to slip their way into your life.  
and you say that they don’t remind you.
of her.
but that dog.  those cats.  
the memories left in the basement of an old factory building, 
in the living room of a cheap apartment,
in the immaculate kitchen of a house you once owned.  
and you always turn in the keys.
to her.
my heart never fully involved with another.
my stars never perfectly aligned.  
until you.
and you cannot say that.
no, you cannot say that,
because of her.  
and sometimes,
i think that—
it makes me
feel alone.  

the seven.

seven years and five deaths.
seven years and one regret.
seven years to make it better.
seven years and a path is set.

and i don’t feel the need to go.
no, i don’t feel the need to run.
i don’t feel i need to bring us together.
and i don’t feel the need to have some fun.

this is the sound of settling.
this is the sound of my heart.
this is the sound of cycles for forever.
this is the sound of it splitting me apart.  

chicago is great city. 
yes, chicago is still a part of me.
chicago still has shitty weather.
but chicago is such a sight to see.

lucky number seven.
lucky you have never seen it.
lucky we have met each other.
lucky i am here again. 

and i won’t pretend to know.
no, i can’t pretend to believe.
some people will pretend on their endeavors.
but some people are not me. 

ask me if i really do care.
ask me if i will get through.
ask me if i am still a regretter. 
ask me if this rhyming scheme is true.

seven years to improve.
seven years to move on. 
seven years to prove you’re not a quitter.
seven years have come and gone.