‘no one likes me’
‘my friends are different from me’
i know, i remember feeling like this.
visits in all forms now
mostly it just hovers around the house
developing ideas on its own.
leaving sulking parents
in it’s mist.
suddenly my mother
isn’t the monster i thought she was
when i was his age.
fake it until you make it, mama.
the beginning of the
the crushing embarrassment
over wondering if you
should be embarrassed.
the shuttered scrunched shoulders
nervous to reveal.
frayed pants cuffs/
i don’t know if i am ready for this.
*today, keeping myself very honest with the Write Alm prompt:weathered.