Confessions Of An Ex-Teenager #546 Poem by Beatrice Preti

i don’t know if you remember the day my
fish died it closed its mouth and floated up
to the top of the tank and it lay there on its
back for hours until i finally got brave and
poked it with a stick and it didn’t move and i
screamed and cried for hours because i’d
touched a dead fish and i wouldn’t eat fish
even weeks later on good friday because that
fish was more than my friend it was the first
thing i’d ever taken care of on my own and then
i killed it.