the things were broke in the heat,
the grime of the screams,
the trash of my face,
you learned on the streets was just
the dues that you pay.
you learn about powders and tonics and shame,
and needles and dosages,
its all part of the game
of picking up the pieces when things fall apart,
the slump of your soul,
the wreck of your heart,
walking barefoot over needles and eggshells
and sleeping around
with whoever, wherever, whenever, whyever, the sound
of your legs open wide
to close off your mind,
you close off emotions
because emotions will bind.

you learn about friends and fiends and that kind,
and become what you know
till what you know becomes more,
hydrogen bombs, saline drips and hospital stays,
black holes, super-nova's, space-time..
overdoses, under-medicated, unhealthy, unwell,

till you dig your own grave and crawl inside for a while,
you feel lucky if you can find a reason to smile,
but one day sleeping pills and nervousness will make you roll over
and give up that ghost,
open your grave like a Lazarus,
leave a note,
and bleed out all those words that were spoke,

if you have luck on your side,
you'll recognize yourself
after that day that you died.

04/20/2011

Posted on 04/20/2011
Copyright © 2026 Vikki Owens