Down the Stairs
not for the first time,
someone tried to push me down the stairs.
didn’t succeed the first time
because I grabbed the banister
steady myself for the next time,
and the person tripped me down the stairs.
caught myself at the bottom,
my hands scraped, full of grit from the floor.
Light lines of blood welled up,
and I heard feminine laughter.
I heard her say, “Sneak.”
She scuffled away before I could see her,
but I could see the word on my locker
pulsing in my head like a migraine.
Sneak. Sneak. Sneak.