grade nine, cold feet, new beginning
when is this going to end?
counting the scars, but only the visible ones
43.
is that enough to send me to the counselor?
i sit down, squint my eyes
****, everything hurts
but i can't complain
i did this to myself
"oh my god, what happened?"
pretty girl asks from across the table
accident.
that's what i say
it's always an accident.
day is done, get on the bus, wait to cry
second stop
i get off
go into my room
more scars
they keep adding up
i'm not going to make it past 14.
17 now
happy moments
oh, ****
i still have scars, don't i?
It's hard to write about what happened to me in 9th grade. It's hard to really acknowledge that these things happened.