Your name was Jamie, or Jenny.
I like Jenny better, so I’ll invent you.

You came for pills.
You said you were feeling worse
There were wrinkles on your face
You told us you stopped drinking in 08.

We asked you if you had support at home
You smiled, you said your mother
(she still calls you a pisshead)
-once a pisshead, always a pisshead, she says-
Do you have a husband? You do!
“He’s brilliant, he supports me…”

We know he was abusive
Obese and an alcoholic as well.
But you smiled, and nodded
And trembled in your seat.
And lied to us.
All we were trying to do was reinvent you.