Broken
by Lisboa Miraflores
Thursday we met
again, when I was really in a hurry and out of breath.
Dear girl, why are you so naive? You ask such foolish questions
and they cut so deep.
"I thought that you'da dropped out by now."
I want to.
Avoiding all public places, deliberately not going to the cafeteria,
remaining hungry. There's so much wind by that lake
that damn lake
I get so cold. I thought my feet didn't like heat?
Innocent question.
All I wanted to know was something they didn't specify.
I just wasn't clear. That's all.
I don't intend on anything, but don't listen. Don't bother.
"Yes Iman. My mother was murdered.
I've told you this before."
But Administrators, it was innocent.
I just wanted to know the size and ratio of pocket knives we're allowed
and you reply such small things
toothpicks. I have to protect myself.
Stop telling me to see the guidance counselor.
And Teachers, you one so persistant and so forgetful, and you other
so oblivious. I had to spell it out for you.
Both of you. Everyone's dragging everything out of me
I feel empty, I feel
full, scattered. But please, I am hurt
NOT broken.
But why do you make me want to be?
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