Found it folded in thirds

Found it folded in thirds,

the crease marks like scars

on paper gone yellow

at the edges.

B-minus in math.

The box was small

and the letter sat inside it

like it had always been waiting.

Sixteen years old, probably.

You don't remember the teacher's name.

You remember the shame was clean then,

simple. Something you could fold away.

Now you're holding it between your fingers

and your hands are shaking

and you can't remember

if you were ever good at anything

that mattered.