By: Iyana B.
The hardest part is telling your parents. It’s bad enough
that you had to experience it, live with it, hold on to this disgusting secret
out of fear. Fake a smile, give a kiss and an “I love you too babe,”
just to make everything okay, to make everything seem seamless.
I will be the first to tell you it’s not seamless publicly. It’s an ugly wrinkled fabric that produces gaping holes once handed to your parents. An embodiment of everything they can’t fix even though you so desperately want it to go away.
“Why did you give us this now?” I could no longer
patch up the holes.
“What do you want me to do with it?” I don’t know.
That’s why I gave it to you.
“Why did you keep this?” It felt too raunchy to
give to anyone else. It hurt too much to…
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