Tied Down To This Bed Of Shame

I went to math class today.

The girl from the roof sits beside me in math class.
I’m wearing one of Dylin’s old shirts and a pair of skinny jeans.
The girl smiled at me, that’s all, she made me feel a little better inside. She asked me if I wanted to go to star bucks after class, I just nodded.

When we went to star bucks she just sort of talked about random stuff. She had this smile on her face, this look in her eyes that I wanted; I wanted to be happy and innocent just like her.

We went to the park and kept talking even though it got dark out.
Falling off the swing I grabbed her arm, I could feel smooth lines underneath the cloth.
I called her out on it.
She looked really scared.
She told me that her mom got really sick when she was younger, could barely move. She had started to cut herself to make herself feel better, to fill up the emptiness.

When she was twelve she was molested by an eighteen year old she had just met. She couldn’t go near a boy for a long time.

I didn’t know what to say. She was so happy, i asked her and she merely smiled and shrugged.
"It was either that or bum around being depressed all the time, being happy ir easier after a little practice." She replied. I was stunned. It made a little sense now.

After a while all I could really say to her was
“I guess we’re both sort of tied to this bed of shame.” she nodded
"I guess we all are in our own special twisted sort of way."

we both left and went home and never spoke again.

But I figured out something important: we're all tied up together, and we have a choice, we always have a choice as to what we feel.