just short of six.

brick by brick.
    transfixed and intermixed
        with her
            bag of tricks.
                what she can’t forget
                    she cold sweats away.

she plays russian roulette with
    old cassettes bringing back
        memories for kicks.
            ***** and giggles.
                licked away by
                    twenty-something years time,
                        and not a second too late.
                            or too soon.

and it clicks in her head that
    sickness comes in many forms.
        adorn by some,
            and conflict of others.
                sticks and stones,
                    but now she gets
                        the weakness shown.

it’s nothing a bottle of bourbon
    and a pack of cigarettes
        won’t fix.