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My bitter root expectancy something that always happens to me
how I expect my life to be always seems to come upon me
the nightmares keep on coming I need something calming
flash backs into my past like power point slides of project homes
left alone to entertain and laugh out loud my pain while feeling everything
hungry every night my stomach complains and gripes
my head uncomfortably lies on a pillow made from a t shirt stuffed with dirty clothes
excited to see morning come for the cereal in my bowl
hoping mamas in a better mood and don’t drink beer and pop black mollies or yellow jackets today maybe she would cook a meal and pay some bills
then we could keep the lights on so we won’t step on dirty needles
on the living room floor by the revolving door, sometimes hoping
that the cops would kick in that door just to go for a ride and feel alive
something died in me something I left behind the way I choose
to love I don’t plan on being innocent anytime soon that time was lost
in one of those rooms needing affection given an injection my blood in a syringe my life in shatters
