S.o.t.S. Entry #12

One day there will be questions I can't answer.

"Who is he?" I wish she could know.
I wish things were better.
We both hate the snow.

My fingers tremble over the keyboard.

Your name stares me down...
You've no idea what I've endured.
They parade me around like a clown--

Like a goddamned freak.

No one believes me, only the lie.
I'm sorry that I'm too weak.
I can't do this anymore. I just want to

I won’t. For Cece. For Berto.

Please find me after your birthday–we can’t move forward until then.

I love you.

Amora N.

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A close up of a person's face as they peer over what appears to be white fabric, presumably a blanket or article of clothing. Only their eyes and the upper bridge of their nose are visible from this left-side view. Both eyes appear discolored, possibly bloodshot, and the nearest one glistens with excess moisture, granting the notion that the model is distressed.
Photo credit: Luis Galvez via Unsplash

P.S. – I don’t blame you. I never did.

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