Angel Youngs Dred Here

So Angel Youngs Dred walks the midnight sidewalk like this: Wings folded shut from overuse. Shoulders shaped like coat hangers holding up a thrift-store leather jacket. Eyes that have learned to look through things—through brick walls, through smiles, through the polite lies people tell to keep from falling apart.

Youngs came next—her mother’s maiden name, stamped on her like a promise she never asked for. It meant to carry forward . So she did. She carried the groceries, the secrets, the silent arguments at dinner, the younger siblings’ homework. angel youngs dred

They called her Angel first, because she came out quiet when the other babies wailed. The nurses said she looked like she’d already seen heaven and was in no hurry to go back. So Angel Youngs Dred walks the midnight sidewalk

The Weight of a Name