Well, here it is, that time of day.
When the sun won't stop shining, and my mom won't calm down.

So I shut my eyes, and take a deep..drawn..out..breath.
Open my eyes, with a pitiful stare, "Won't you go get me a soda?"

Long...Waiting...Ticking...Silence...And she returns a glare.
So with a quiver in my lip, "I don't feel so good..."

Up she gets, hand out to me.."The money"
Reaching for my purse, digging in the bottom..Change 1.75.

Out the door, the sun snatches at my retinas, and a little hiss, escapes my lips.
Hand up I walk to the back, opening the door..

Long...drawn...out...sigh...I Didn't lie when I said I wasn't feeling..so good.

And i close the door, Drop my pants...Three minutes,
Just fucking let her be gone for three minutes.

But sitting, looking a the tile floor, It's less than to be desired for.
With a shady pink and white, cracks here and there..

My only alone time ticking by as my fingers twitch and the cheap candle burns down at the wick.
A sniffle in my nose, and i ache in my bones..but it's all worth it, if i can get out of it.

Two days? Four days? How many more days? I'll be gone just that quick..
I will find them first, and but back together the peices, of a new life..

Much like a fresh breath of air (That i cant get here, because its stifling and musky in a closed space like this)


And a scurry across my foot, "Damn it.."
I finish peeing,wipe... and let out a squeal...I Won't ever seem to be used to these roaches.

My foot goes down, on the innocent bug, with a crisp...crunch...
I feel alittle bad, as i stand up, and flush away the corpse..

They're just trying to get by too...Just trying to pass by..through the cracks.
Just like me they aren't pretty but they've got souls too.

Another one scurries across my foot.."God damnit! get the fuck off me, Do you want to be next to die?!"
I retch and I gag, thanking for the toilet...it's all passing through in the wrong way

It's nasty, i'll admit, my greasy hair, my bruised back, the scum under my nails, the smell of my sweat,
As i bend over, and throw up what was left, of the only meal..I'd have for two days.

And The mutts bark, she's home again, i wipe my face,
and my unknown tears..i cant.wont.let.my fears show through.

A drawn out stare, as i drawl "fThanks love"
And she doesnt.won't look at me, or through me, like she used to, but turns back..

To her book, her last escape from reality...I have one too,
And i'm writing it here, from across the room...