It’s Like That Sometimes
during the entire year of 4th grade, this girl relentlessly reminded me that my face was long and misshapen.
her face wasnâ€™t much to look at either but her comments left me feeling pissed on.
it wasn’t until 10 years later when I saw her again.
it was a glorious day, bright and glorious.
she had become a woman.
she had become this over-used, gangly, crazy eyed woman.
with her was a young child and she was exploding with another.
she looked terrible, she was tired, very tired, bruised, and stretched thin.
the hell that was the last 10 years did her in.
her mouth sat low on her face.
she was broken but kept it together despite it all.
i smiled, not at her, but at the fact that she looked exactly like I felt all those days in the 4th grade.