My dad caught me making tampons From duct tape and toilet paper. Sat me down and said, He’s proud of me, But I shouldn’t have to do this. He’ll make sure I have the things I need. My smirk stares straight past him. The things I need. When dad is away we brush our teeth with alcohol. We mix sugar into water For our breakfast. I’ve cleaned wounds with Clorox wipes. Our medieval, dusty medkit shows no mercy. We rubbed leaves into our ****** knees And pretended That we knew what the **** we were talking about. With lies about what “elders” taught us. Or maybe it was just me? Maybe it was just me Who curled up on the hearth Shaking while my shins melted, Filling the hole under my ribcage With my fists. While the kitten froze to death Under a leaky water pipe. The things we need. Maybe it was just me Who kept living like a refugee, Or felt I ever was one? Using one shelf of five assigned to me, A bag of food packed under the bed Long into my first years of college. Living without when things ran out. Embracing the word “gone” As a new way of living. Steak dinners from my father all the while. Money for band t-shirts? Ask your mother. But new sound systems, Let’s start a farm, Adopt a sister, And travel the country Eating at only old diners. The things we need. The things we need.