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Story of My Life
I’m trying to get to something deep down.
I’ve kept it hidden away for some time now.
I barely remember putting it there.
But I remember what it is.
It is the story of a girl with a broken heart.
Her prince never comes to save her.
It is the story of a woman on her wedding day.
She is crying, alone at the altar.
It is the story of a teenage girl walking out of the clinic.
The life inside her is gone.
It is the story of a woman with a bruise on her cheekbone.
Her husband is sleeping peacefully upstairs.
It is the story of a family standing in front of remains.
The remains of their house, burnt to the ground.
It is the story of a man with a box full of office supplies.
He is walking out of a building with nowhere to turn.
It is the story of young boy in a dirty suit.
He is standing at his father’s funeral, an American flag draped over the coffin.
It is the story of a grandfather lying in bed.
No one knows yet that he will never wake up.
I’m still trying to figure out how it ends.
I know that it doesn’t end:
Happily ever after.