with the leftover rig of someone’s unhappy decisions
and the smell of animals left too long without attention
I curled up for a few days in the cold on hide-a-bed mattress
like the ******* ****** I never was
only thought about being.
“What was I thinking?”
Fifteen and wishing
I was ****** chic
a “beautiful disaster”
a ******* model painted dead for TV..
~that~ was my aspiration.
Fast-forward to the bottle of whiskey
and the smell of old dog ****
and a lingering need to hear that man’s voice.
I was so angry.
“She ****** me off so much.”
There’s little cessation
from the stream of ******* they spew.
“How could I love and hate someone so much?”
“That’s what abuse does....”
Products...
results...
that’s what we are...
from a mass social experiment gone right.
“They want you fat, lazy, and addicted to something.”
“Well, they have me.”
I hear some people have a handle on things...
got “****” together.
I hear that man’s got a job and is pretending to be someone
for someone’s family.
If I had enough room, I’d weep for them.
My tears are all ******* though
in fear of the future and a lack of control.
What the **** do we do?
Where the **** do we go?
That trailer
I thought I could save it.
Cleaned the walks and the carpets.
Drank myself to sleep,
freezing,
thinking
I was so righteous,
so destined for ...
something.
anything
except
that trailer.