she leaned through open car windows
for cigarettes in her pre-teen low-rise denim cut-offs
willowy from ritalin 
she said yes to the things I was afraid of
bonfire invitations and cans of warm beer and cloudy liquid sucked up 
through a needle on a cloud of cotton
well that escalated quickly
something in you knew from a young age
you could get whatever you wanted from a girl
if you just picked the right one
an evil entrepreneurialism 
i was envious at first
simplified it to mean I was less pretty
the truth was you could just smell the disease I didn’t inherit
and decided you could own her
before you blame our Dad, he was a good one
and you’re an unoriginal asshole
that’s why it never made sense
why she felt she deserved a violent life
it began by boys my age asking me when she turned 18
like an Olsen twin countdown calendar
fast forward twelve years and her body is a broken home
i’ve seen the smashed eye socket she swore was a mugging
felt the ridges from the razorblade scars
heard stories told slack-jawed and casually about shampoo
poured into dilated pupils
things I couldn’t stop because she 
needed needed needed
fix fix fix
it’s the deadening of her eyes when I ask if she’s okay 
the locked bathroom doors
the time she flung herself from a moving car and the scratches didn’t compare
when she sold Mom’s Christmas CD collection 
when you tried to hug us, act nice, but we knew
how do i share her darkness, my darkness with other people
holding back a Jerry Springer reference to break the tension

to minimize the blood, the tears, the CPS calls
she deserves more
you deserve less
so much less
you keep her stunted 
like when she leaned through those windows
the smell of burnt hair from a bronzer-stained straightener
scorched skin from tanning beds 
stuck in amber of the early ‘00s
decade-old Juicy pants deemed cool again
Red Bulls at 10am
sticky drugstore body sprays 
the track marks tracking years like a tree 
the way you find her on back pages and sides of highways and at gas stations in her flip flops 
send me messages about how bad she’s doing as if
you didn’t boil the water
you like her like this 
prefer her like this 
childlike with an issue with authority
loosies gripped between looser lips
telling me she hates me and
she loves you 
there are just so many of you
dealers and men with records, sure
but the saviors with the beer bellies and 401Ks are the worst
eyes raking up her malnourished body in used car lots
your absolutely drenched liver makes you feel edgy
promising a bed, if…
a job if…
you certainly aren’t reminding her to eat
play the victim when she’s court-ordered to leave you
then pick her up from Day 2 of detox like a damn superhero 
a hatchet in our plan to save her 
when our mom will only give her a ride if it’s to rehab
like all twelve steps tell us to do
like Intervention tells us to do
never Google how many of those people are still alive, by the way

we’ve done everything
said everything
tried everything
then you slip in to make things easy
then so so hard
the email she sent that said 
I need everything to be perfect to look at it
but maybe to me perfect just means okay 
some of you have met well-timed ends
i grin about it closed rooms as to not appear to be a 
bad person
but some people deserve to die
overdose in hallway
car accident that left you paralyzed
overdose in hot tub
overdose in room of rented furniture
stabbed to death in the middle of the day
maybe there is a God
maybe someday I’ll be the one to hunt you down
how do middle class white girls commit murder 
when it’s not against their cheating middle management husbands?
Facebook Marketplace?
I thought maybe she’d someday win
live
stay sober
stay away from all of you
but with tinsel and snow
came her last breath
another one of you left her alone
in a dark room
so now I’ll just stare with honeyed
concrete eyes
saying I know you
I see you
for what you are
and what she didn’t get the chance to be.

Lyz Mancini is a writer living in Catskill, NY. She is a beauty copywriter for brands like MAC Cosmetics and Clinique, and her writing has appeared in Slate, Catapult, HerStry, Shortwave Magazine, Huffington Post, Roi Faineant Press, and more. She is a Pitch Wars 2020 and Tin House Winter Workshop 2022 alum and was nominated for a 2022 Pushcart Prize. Diet Dr. Pepper runs through her veins.