Shadows, tired eyes.
Kettle whistling. Here I am.
Sitting on the couch, awaiting my fate.
Scared, and hands trembling.
Hands crawl towards the torn-open envelope.
Unfolding ever so slightly the first of many.
The first of a series of painful reminders.
The dollar sign.
Amount due. Might as well be a second rent.
I welcome my payment to a ruined.
Ruinous second life of paying off my debt.
I just wanted to go to a place
where I could feel alive.
I didn't understand how much of a burden,
A costly expedition into the unknown.
Tied up my laces and packed up a few months ago.
Wanting to go to medical school,
Now not so sure.
The bright white doctor's coat in the future
Turning black in the course of a few seconds.
I held that loan payment
And I resisted the urge to rip it,
Tear it, pull it apart.
Because it would tear my future apart.
This is it, I think.
For me, it's a lifetime of struggles.
Press my palms together,
Take a few deep breaths,
Anxious about the future.
"It's not your fault".
It's not my fault,
Over and over.