why are the walls always blue...
in the places where it hurts to be?
in the places where i watch
a little girl you grow up through pictures of
a little happy family in
a house that’s big and round...

who am i in this story?
.
trailer park trash assuming the role of
dignified enough to be
in that house...
with a kitchen island,
and a garden, and a beautiful, bright blue
fish tank...?

*******.

******* for having what i wish i had
when i was small,
when my parents first cracked my head open,
and accidentally filled it with illness and
bugs
from our gross, apartment floors...

for i did not grow up with a happy garden
or through pictures that mommy
keeps on her wall...

if you are unhappy, i must live in ******* hell.