Georgia
four
He doesn’t care anymore.
He decides this on the way home. He is whispering, “I am a coward. A coward. A fucking goddamn coward.” He does not slow down when he reaches his street, he does not bother to shut the front door quietly, he does not look at his father as he passes through the living room, he does not take all his dirty clothes out of his duffel bag when he is in his room. Instead he sits down on the floor, not bothering to shut the door, and cries. Not because he is sad, not because he is mad, but because he is tired. And he doesn’t feel anything when his father steps into his room, his hands clenched tightly at his sides, his breath hot and angry.
And he doesn’t feel a single goddamn thing.
He decides this on the way home. He is whispering, “I am a coward. A coward. A fucking goddamn coward.” He does not slow down when he reaches his street, he does not bother to shut the front door quietly, he does not look at his father as he passes through the living room, he does not take all his dirty clothes out of his duffel bag when he is in his room. Instead he sits down on the floor, not bothering to shut the door, and cries. Not because he is sad, not because he is mad, but because he is tired. And he doesn’t feel anything when his father steps into his room, his hands clenched tightly at his sides, his breath hot and angry.
And he doesn’t feel a single goddamn thing.
♠ ♠ ♠
Matt.