RECEIPTS FROM AOL INSTANT MESSENGER (7)

CandyDandy24

Enter new Away message:

          *•*  m y * g i r l i e s  *•*

          <3    { lylas [1] }

Special characters:
% n = Screen Name of Buddy
% d = Current Date
% t = Current Time

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[1] LYLAS (v.): 

Learning to lie & doing it well was necessary to be American. No, there was no dancing allowed in Ma's house.

Yes, Ma still caught me, back arched & booty popping in my bedroom. She grabbed the boti with the curved blade, & I

Locked my mouth to keep the cops away. White people are already disgusted by us. When my girls & I hung out

At their houses, we crafted my lie before Ma called—we're watching a Disney movie. With the TV on mute & the call in-

Session, I'd steal a glance at the women dressed in corsets & lace on VH1, with muscle memory to call their own.

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RECEIPTS FROM AOL INSTANT MESSENGER (10)

BUDDY INFO: CANDYDANDY24

Personal Profile:

           //  I'm  ThAt BaD BiTcH [2]   \\  

                 *•* tHaT RiDe Or DiE BiTcH *•*

                            est. 1992

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[2]

bad bitch (n.):

Brown bitches can't be trusted. I built my freckled & blue-eyed white girl alias from Google Images to 

Acquire dick pics from boys in AIM chat rooms. Underage cybersex was the extent of my experience. If I

Didn't use my own nudes, I could still be a brown bride someday: doll-eyed & draped in red sari threads. Brown

Bitches are reared with a guilt trip & a wooden spoon. I was 22 when the arranged marriage efforts began.

I'm getting so old, & I want to watch my daughter's wedding before I die. Don't you care? Via drunk email, I told

The Bengali engineer from NYU, I don't like you & I never will. My doll parts are strapped with bullets. My

Cunt is leashed to my bloodline. I'll be a brown bitch decorated in 22 karat bridal jewels. I'll be

Holy with my wrists bound by marionette cords.

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While writing poems for the "Receipts from AOL Instant Messenger" series, I tried to create a form that pushed me to economize language while documenting trauma. I started writing the series months after AIM shut down in 2017. The poems incorporate early 2000s AIM slang, acrostics, and footnotes to enforce constraints on the number of words invested in detailing my memory and its association with American culture and pain.