Bad Ideas

“What's her ish?”

I listened from behind silent headphones.

“I heard that she just had an abortion.”

I let my eyes wander from the conversation.

“I heard that she got HIV from shooting up.”

A dark chuckle slid out of my throat.

It was a bad idea.

§ § § § § §

You'd pulled me out of the room.

Away from the clawing stares,

hoping to drag me into their judgment.

“Ignore them.”

I nodded, left.

It was a bad idea.

§ § § § § §

You stuck to my brain for days.

You were like a bee,

trapped against my skin by the stinger,

constantly buzzing so I couldn't forget.

I called.

It was a bad idea.

§ § § § § §

“How did she get him?”

Whispers slid along palms and into ears.

“I bet she already put out.”

I continued on my way, immune to their quips.

“I'm going to tell him she has the virus.”

My hands balled into fists.

It was a bad idea.

§ § § § § §

My headphones screamed music into my ears.

Mother talked to principal.

Silent ride home.

I called and invited you over.

It was a bad idea.

§ § § § § §

You asked me lots of questions.

I smiled, didn't answer.

I left to get us sodas.

It was a bad idea.

§ § § § § §

I came back to find you sitting on my bed,

Rummaging for answers in the paragraphs of my diary.

I yelled; you yelled.

I threw a soda can.

It was a bad idea.

§ § § § § §

I'm sitting in a hospital waiting room.

My mother's pale and stiff beside me.

I bought a balloon that said 'get well soon'

It was a bad idea.