The Promises I Couldn't Keep #Wattys2015

eighty-five

Life,

I walk back to my room.

And sit on my bed.

I think for a moment.

And in that moment,

I'm filled with memories.

My Friend not believing me.

My father beating me.

And later, raping me.

The kids at school laughing.

And calling me names.

Names I've come to think of as describing myself.

Comments as I walked by with Boy.

Boy.

Would he mourn my death?

Would he be mad?

I think he would understand.

I promise you that.