Seventh Grade

Twelve years old with a huge fabric binder,

a new pair of shoes,

and the exact same wardrobe as the year before.

The shoes were maroon and grey

and "only cost fifteen dollars!" my mom said.

Cousin Jacq bought them from Marshall's

because living in the new apartment

was a lot more money than the

  motel was on University Boulevard.

The bullying got nasty quick but my friends and I

would roll our sweatpants up

and shaved our legs over the side of the bathtub together.

I stopped going to school.

The secrets came out of Emily's mouth

and it looked like an open floodgate in my eyes.

I tried to grab a hold of all the things slipping from my fingertips

but I was too small to catch it.

Fumbling with marbles that suddenly

weighed as much as a goddamn piano.