The Weight of Water Read Online Free PDF Page B

   Higher.
     
    And I am laughing because,
    Actually,
    I do feel like a little kid
    After all.
     
    And I like it.

Dear William
     
    I don’t want you to write a poem for me
    But it would be nice if you did.
     
    And if you bought a rose for me
    It would be OK too
    But I don’t want you to buy flowers
    Necessarily.
     
    I don’t want you to carry my book bag
    But if you feel like doing that
    Spontaneously
    I wouldn’t stop you.
     
    I wouldn’t stop you being romantic
    If that’s what you wanted.

First Kiss
     
    Oh God.
    Oh God.
     
    It is so embarrassing
    When he tries to kiss me
    And our faces collide like cars
    In a traffic accident.
     
    As he leans in
    I open my mouth
    Too
                               Wide
    Like a yawn
    And his pursed lips disappear into
    The hollow of my mouth
    So I feel like I am swallowing
    Him.
     
    He pulls away.
    He looks at me like he
    Is trying to figure out an algebra problem.
     
    I am too difficult for him.
    When he turns away,
    Because he is embarrassed too,
    I still have my mouth open
    Yawn
                               Wide
    But now it’s because I am in shock
    From the accident
    And I can’t close it.

Assembly
     
    Why would Clair
    Steal a pair of scissors from the art room
    And then,
     
    Sitting behind me in assembly,
    Listening to the Head of Year
    Make announcements,
    Cut chunks from my hair?
     
    I was trying to grow it.
    I was trying to get it right.
     
    Her stunt makes the others girls
    Tee-hee-hee.
     
    At least she got some tee-hee
    Titters from it.
     
    Later Clair apologises,
    Hands back my hair and,
    With big eyes and a sticky pout says,
    ‘Don’t be like that, Cassie,
    Was just a joke. Innit?’
     
    What kind of joke is this?
    Maybe it’s an English joke
    I can’t yet understand.
     
    But I suspect I understand
    Perfectly.

No Offence, But . . .
     
    I shouldn’t take things the wrong way
    Because they are ‘just joking’
    And they mean ‘no offence’
    And they laugh – ha ha ha –
    Because ‘not really’
    Makes everything they do
    Mean nothing
    At all.

Wrath
     
    I will find a way
    To take revenge
    On Clair,
    For the hair –
    And on her whispering friends too.
     
    I will find a way
    To watch with glee
    As Clair
    Feels despair
    Along with her
    Cheerleaders.
     
    I can be angry.
     
    Not always
    Good Kasienka,
    As Mama thinks.

Teachers
     
    Why can’t they see what’s happening?
    Why don’t they notice the looks,
    The smirks, the eye-rolling?
     
    And why don’t they ask if I’m OK?
     
               I’ll tell them I’m not.
               I’m not a liar.
               Or a slag .
     
    Why do they always ask Clair
    to pass out the books
    And Marie to read her homework aloud?
     
    They see what they want
    Because if they didn’t it would be a lot of work,
    And they don’t have time for this;
     
    They have to mark, and teach, and stop the
    Boys from killing one another
    With their teeth and fists.
    This is more important than spotting snickers.
     
    But why can’t they just ask if I’m OK?

Misread
     
    I don’t want to be secretive.
     
    Mama and I share a bed.
    Every night it’s her and me together.
     
    There are just some things
    I can’t say.
     
    Mama isn’t a good listener.
     
    Sometimes, when I speak,
    And think I’ve said something,
    Mama hears something else
    Completely.
     
    And the reaction is unexpected.
     
    Like last week – I asked for money
    To buy a tube of mascara.
     
    She raised an eyebrow
    And tapped her tummy.
     
    I didn’t understand.
     
    ‘Vulgar girls – always having babies –
    Don’t be one of those, Kasienka.
    Be a good girl.’
     
    Now someone tell me –
    How can mascara make me pregnant?
     
    So when I come home with fresh-chopped hair
    I don’t tell her it was Clair in assembly
    Sitting behind me with blunt scissors.
     
    I tell her the teacher did it.
    I tell her I got gum in it.
    Because Mama won’t understand –
    And she will find a way to blame