Sorry Shawn-Te MAG

By Unknown, Unknown, Unknown

   One memory I have from fifth grade is this:

Teasing a rather tall, obese girl named Shawn-t"

On the playground during recess.

I remember suddenly being chased by her,

The air being forced out of my lungs.

I remember finally giving up,

My efforts all in vain,

My feet skidding underneath me as

Shawn-t" thrust her entire body forward,

Knocking me face first into the pavement.

I remember the stinging scrapes on my face and

The severe throbbing of the two-inch cut in my hand.

Most of all I remember

The incredibly raw sensation of the needle and thread

Sewing a jagged trail to recover the bone in my palm

At the emergency room that night,

And, as I look down at my searing cut

That has a leftover rock lodged in it,

I can still smell the dizzying aroma

Of cleaning products down the hall,

Five years after it all happened.





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