Happy For You by Jazmin Sharif

Don’t tell me you’re picking out
a tux, because our senior prom
was four years ago, when you tried
to prophesize that I would be the mother
of your children. Don’t show me a picture
of your beautiful daughter, hair curly
and untamed, eyes bright,
packed with emotion like anime
characters you and I loved to watch.
I don’t want to see balloons floating off
into space, their strings let loose by accident
from just a few houses away,
because it means a party is going on,
fun is being had with a family
you once considered me to be a part of,
balloons I would have loved to help
blow up. I’m not supposed to wallow,
in fact it’s frowned upon by now.
Forgiven if I hold on to you, allowed
to own those memories as long
as I don’t replay them to the point where I am lost.
Depending who you ask, I’m a monster
if I frown, look down and say nothing
when people ask if I am happy for you.
Depending who you ask, I’m a liar
if I smile, look up and say, “Yes.”


Published by

Jeremiah Walton

Jeremiah Walton is wary of writing a bio.

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