Amalie Kwassman

Commencement Speech

everything
really is not going to turn out alright
you will not get that job
your family will become even more broken than it already is
you will become even more self-conscious
than you were when you first entered college
you will begin to walk with your ankles, scribbling notes to god with each step
you will begin to sleep with the light on
to chase the murderers away
but eventually
you will need a grave site with your name on it
to remember how important it is to live
you will interrupt sex for a phone call 
you will
have bruises from the child abuse that still burn your arm
and you will spend all your time trying to borrow back the rain
to forget the fire in your mother’s eyes
you will trust those men grooming themselves into war
and try to wash the stink off of some man who loves you
your tears will become poor dots on the skyline
still, you will trust the grainy smiles of the stars
and then tomorrow
when the sun comes out
you will drum up your sweater to reveal your stomach to the sun
and forget that, as a child,
you once begged on your stomach
crawled on your ashes
you still sunburn beautifully.

Amalie Kwassman is originally from Brooklyn, New York. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing and Environment from Iowa State University and a Ph.D. in Rhetoric and Professional Communication from Iowa State University. Amalie is an Assistant Professor of English at Montana State University-Billings. Her work has been published in Hobart, Cosmonauts Avenue, Booth, Ruminate, Juked, Salt Hill, the Minnesota Review, and elsewhere.