you were a little kid living in a mid west trailer park. He lived there too. You didn’t know who he was or how to say no.

he walked up to you. One day, he was a little boy. He grabbed you by your hair.

“My names ash, you’re kute!” he said. He had a pair of scissors in his pocket.

he seemed to be around you all the time, he would hurt you, you would tell your parents, but they’d say he was just playing, or that he just had a crush on you.

it was almost Valentine’s Day, you sat in his trailer at the table cutting paper into hearts for school, he was too he just couldn’t do it. So he got angry and cut up all the paper and stabbed your hands with the scissors. You started to cry but he slapped you across the cheek.

“Man up!” he scolded stomping his foot, was he god?

he wasn’t god. He was a reflection of his parents onto him.