Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Learning My Lesson

You never took me to school.
The too big bus took me to school.
I never went willingly.

What should have been a refuge,
overwhelmed.

I always assumed the worst.

If there were dogs,
they would bite me.
If there were people,
they would hurt me.
If there were lessons,
they would be hard ones.

Not hard, as in tough to learn,
but hard, as in tough to cover up

the fear,
the bruises,
the tears that always want to spill.

They give me away every time.

I am as good as got.

Those tears.
What I learned from you.

You never took me to school.
You taught me a lot, a space lot.


Note: A space lot is a family saying that I use a space lot. See more: here here yet again