I don’t remember

You wrote a poem about me

It wasn’t very good

You said I made you a tortured poet

Then laughed

And it’s all a blur-

Isn’t it

This is a reflection a boy who bullied me when I was younger. Now, I think I might understand what he was going through.


He scarred me.

Deep.

into my bones.

It feels like

Grief.

Her name was Maria 

My mom's friend Maria 

La mariposa she says 

Soy la mariposa 

Because she spread her wings 

To the land of kings