"Just drop me off at the next corner.
I need to get out."

I'm amazed I've lasted this long
I have a **** in my side
that's got to be puncturing my spleen or liver or something by now

I stumble out of the car poorly
hand the driver a $100 dollar bill
and as he speeds off
my eyes adjust to the lack of light he left behind

I look around for an awning
pick the black garbage bag up from the damp ground
feel its weight in my sweaty hands
heavier than before

I pull it along side me to the back side of a bar
toss it gently on the ground
I feel fortunate I've found an awning
as it begins to rain again

I finger the scratch marks she's left on my arm
allow the rain to wash away the blood
as I glance at the garbage bag again
and start to choke up

My tears burn my cheek
begin to irritate my eyes
I feel lonely so I pull the top of the bag back just a bit
and look at her eyes
the skin around them is turning blue
blood's pooling at her mouth

The tears start up again
I'm sobbing like a baby without a bottle
as I lay down next to her
it
place the metal muzzle against my spleen or liver or whatever
watch it blow out the right side of me
and that's it
I see black

I wish I could take photos on the rain like photographers
perfect light bouncing off beaming rain drops
pictures that cause people to feel something
instead I walk through the puddles
my eyes still tired from last night's party
the drugs still whispering through my veins
it's all a routine, isn't it?
if you don't feel anything?
just get up
move on
get it done
go back home
do it again
and then I'm standing in a river looking at the sun set over two bridges in Yosemite and I feel something
a moment of satisfaction
of exhilaration
and the routine is all but forgotten again

oh father how your face has grown old with defeat
oh sister your arms have become so gaunt

the men march below my window
a beam of light crosses my tattered dress
how can there be beauty at a time like this?

the store fronts are empty
just the soldiers in their black uniforms
feasting on all of the wine and banquettes
we aren't allowed to buy with our ration cards

the children walk with their faces towards the sidewalk
the babies never cry anymore
they've lost the energy for all of that

but the birds they still sing
that sad and lonesome song
"I would like to leave it all if I only could"
and we said quietly to one another
"C'est la fin"

my lids are heavy
held down by pain and dried blood
I can feel the ground
my fingers wet
the smell of a public toilet
it's dark
I feel like I've just lost my mind

Two days later I'm pressed against hot benches
light blaring down on my
now red
bare chest
I know I can't move
"Sit Down!"
if I stretch my legs
just for a second
I could be in here the entire day

Five years later
sewing in thick gloves that don't fit my once feminine hands
I can see past the windows that can't open
men walking in the grass
gray clothes
gray hair
walking together as if they were chained
or had been
for far too long

One year later
the walls laugh at me
their pathetic attempts at a
"***** feel"
I see my friend in the corner of the room
I'd missed her
I start walking towards her
and notice her chin caked in spit
and her eyes glazed over
with emptiness

will I ever be free
will I ever convince them
will I ever run again

*will he ever find me

when the clouds all seem to disappear
when your insides are singing
exploding at the same time
when the music blaring on the radio
is exactly the right volume
you text, Everything looks good!
as a group message
your cheeks hurt from smiling
your anxiety a part of your past
given way to euphoria
you look down
place your hand gently on your belly
and say quietly
*"I've been waiting my whole life for you"

I swear I could be better*
the car sways through the hills
I feel your pants press against mine
just a piece of fabric separating
your skin from mine

my palms are sweaty
my heart stuck in my chest
my mind racing to bed sheets & sweat
the secret we could have
oh, the mess we could make*

you walk away and don't say a word
our silence sexier than the anticipation