little to no progress
has been made
& she’s craving all the things
she isn’t supposed to
crave

like a quart of rosato
& a bottle of
vicodin

she does not bless this mess
& her only resolution
is to **** it up
even more

what happened to
summer camp
& only caring about
jesus and
three lane super
slides?

she stole the last drop
of raspberry
& it stung her throat
turned her lips to flames

yet
it was still so sweet

how can there be such an
air of serenity in
this place
when in her heart there
is nothing but
turmoil?

only three pills to last
the weekend
& she doesn’t want
any of them

but they’re the only
substitute
for life at this
moment


she is low
again


a dangerous, dangerous
kind of low