He had a black eye when he opened
the door, I'm surprised my mom even
let me stay. I comforted him as he
cried sorry tears and wished my
birthday would be better but his
girlfriend hit him the night before and
was rotting in a jail cell for the day.
I wished she stayed there.
She keyed our car.
Etched in “bitch” and “whore”
popped our tires
because she didn’t like my mom
interacting with my dad.
I wished she’d just
go away.
She died.
Overdosed
somewhere in Colorado.
I was so happy.
I wished it happened sooner.
My brother lost his mother.
I should feel sad about that,
and I do,
but he’ll never have to know her
be threatened by her,
be hurt by
her,
become
her.
So that 10-year-old kid felt no remorse.
I still don’t.
Ian Jipson is a 17 year old high school senior from Lawrence, Kansas. This is his first time writing poetry and being published. He loves math, space, reading, Dungeons and Dragons, and many more nerdy subjects. As a senior, Ian is looking forward to his future studies in astronomy and expanding his knowledge of physics.