by Alexis K., 16
She thought every
life had a point.
Her upbringing was a dichotomy
of teaching; sex and success
weighed against each other like they
matter equally but she
had not been taught how to be
an individual.
She never learned to make a point
of her lonesome, but she knew her fate
danced around the desires of a companion.
Before she had found herself,
was good enough for herself,
she had learned
to nitpick traits, habits,
personality-related tendencies
that might not be favorable,
to set the standard for
decades in the future,
to live the standard but forget about
reaching it, to strive
to change
for marriage.
What else was her point?
She had consciously fought it but
unconsciously believed it.
She was slave to her teachings and
never realized it. She feared.
She anticipated.
She anxiously awaited her own
downfall.
She thought every life had a point,
but what was hers?
Durham, North Carolina
Bridge Ink 