You’re Thirteen – Poetry by C Evans Mylonas
Mylonas heard some tough stories from young teen girls in her time as mental health case manager at LA juvenile facilities.
You’re Thirteen
I’ve been working the streets for a year.
You’re thirteen.
I make more money selling shit on the street than you make working here.
You’re thirteen.
I just want to go home. Why can’t I go home?
You’re thirteen.
I have to take care of my brother cause my mother can’t.
You’re thirteen.
That was my fourth foster home.
You’re thirteen.
I don’t like all the rules. I can take care of myself.
You’re thirteen.
My stepdad threw me out cause I got too old. He’s into my little sister now.
You’re thirteen.
I think my dad’s in prison. I don’t need him.
You’re thirteen.
I was in the car, but I don’t know who shot the bitch.
You’re thirteen.
Mom’s excited about having a new baby in the house.
You’re thirteen.
I’m clean. I don’t need to get tested.
You’re thirteen.
Why do you care? My folks don’t care.
You’re thirteen.