In fifth grade
I ate rotten meat
because a ten year old
cannot hate themselves.

In sixth grade
my dad left for the sixth
and the final time
and I started blacking out
from trying to hunt him down

In seventh grade
I walked down train tracks
singing “I’m going to Chicago”
because home
it decorated my body
with little red lines

In eighth grade
I was sent to a white building
for people that try to die
because it turns out
a ten year old can hate themselves.