Free Perfect by Ellen Hopkins Page A

my back
    tipping me forward, the rock
    beneath my feet starting to crumble,
    but not afraid to go slipping into
    the unknown. I could retreat
    from this place. Instead I take
    a deep breath, plunge into some
    mysterious space. And I like it.

The River Is High
    Winter-fed currents rush down-
    stream, chew at the rocky banks.
    Dani sits on a picnic table,
    watching a few intrepid kayakers,
    and even in profile, she defines
    stark beauty—all steep slopes
    and sharp tilts and spikes of russet
    hair. I call her name, and when
    she turns, her smile is like April
    sun on the March snow drifted
    deep inside me. Just seeing her
    has lifted the morning’s weight.
She senses something, or it shows
in my eyes. You okay? What’s wrong?
    I could say nothing, but why lie?
    “It’s a long story. Let’s walk.”
    We start down the riverside bike
    path, and I begin my lurid saga.
    Cool, distant father. Frigid,
    twisted mother. Sad, sick twin.
    When I get to the stuff about Emily,
    Dani’s fingers knot into mine. Wow .
    That’s like something you see on TV .
    But darlin’, you’re not the only one
    with a messed-up family. My mom
    left us for heroin when I was six .
    She OD’d a couple of years ago .
    In between, she was turning tricks ,
    and got pregnant with my little brother .
    She came crawling back. Dad was great .
    He took her in, and when she left us
    for smack again, he raised Caleb like
    his own. We were doing okay, except
    when Mom died, Caleb freaked out .
    Like she’d ever been his mom, you know?
    Anyway, he fried his brain on ecstasy .
    Stole a car and drove it the wrong way
    down the freeway, head-on into a semi .
    He was only fourteen. So now it’s just
    Dad and me. Everyone else is dead .

Her Hand Trembles In Mine
    And now it’s my turn to be strong.
    I stop. Pull her very close to me, swim
    into the glittering pools in her eyes.
    “I’m sorry.” She nods, parts her lips,
    and when our mouths meet, it is with
    urgency. Need. Lust. And understanding
    that this might be only the beginning.
    We feed on each other. Draw strength
    from the nourishment. We are alone here,
    but were we not, I wouldn’t care who might
    be watching as we wrap each other in
    each other, caught up in a net of desire
    so strong there can be no breaking
    free. Her skin is softest leather.
    Her tongue, butter melting on mine.
    She smells of ginger. Tastes of mint
    and strawberry. She is angle. I am
    curve. Together, we are geometric
    sculpture, and we make perfect sense.
    But just how far am I willing to go?

Kendra
    How Far
    Down can this one drop me?
    Will it plummet me into a no-
    man’s-land so pleasure-dense
    that memory can’t
follow?
    How high will this one launch
    me? Will I soar above this
    pain-infused planet, no fear,
    and no desire to ever
turn back?
    Who knew so many answers
    might be found inside
    little amber bottles? Sad?
    Pop a pill. Fat?
Run screaming for
    the medicine chest.
    Calorie counting becomes
    obsolete when all you want
    to swallow is water and
Mommy’s Little Helper
    makes that happen for you.

I Don’t Know Why
    It took me so long to find my way
to Pharmaceuticalville. I guess I thought
    pill popping was for losers. People who
couldn’t hack reality. Couldn’t control
    themselves or conquer their weaknesses.
Ha. I never thought I was weak before,
    not even when the mirror insisted I was
a total wuss. It’s all very clear now, though.
    And I can’t believe how easy it is to not
feel hungry. To not feel sorry. To not feel
    sad or worried or like the whole world
just wants to crush me, and all I have to do
    is match the messed-up mood to the proper
chemical adjuster. If that makes me weak,
    oh well. But I think it makes me smart.
Why push uphill when you can coast?

I Was Only Going To Take
    One Percocet. I needed it the day
I found out about Conner and his skank.
    His old skank. The one who just moved
away. Thank God I don’t have to see her
    ever again. But even if I did, all I would
have to do is down