February 16, 2011
By dbarozinsky BRONZE, Flower Mound, Texas
dbarozinsky BRONZE, Flower Mound, Texas
3 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Another morning
another headache
another chance to change
smoke, choke, stuffy, dope
a new experience, something must work
she showers in the water, unheated and unclosed
her soap smells of rotten fruit or some old laundry detergent
but all she has left
her breakfast comes from a box of instant oatmeal
at her side, a girl, and with the girl, two boys
skinny boned, uncombed, starving, hopeful
gives them the leftovers, forgets their hugs, she leaves them
Sun just rising over the town
not yet a busy morning
alone, she quickly stumbles to his residence
dirty, un-kept, high, oblivious
enters the dark, run down, project home
the fumes enclose her in the room, she disappears
with the others, her mind withers away
slowly like the slur of his words
thick, breathless, wanting escape
he hands her the foil, the powdery mix
what it does won’t matter, and it surely won’t fix
the life she’s been leading since she was seven
for twenty-four years now
she returns home, the sun is setting now
a warm breeze of June and dumpster, brick buildings all the same
broken, lost, fatigued
she had been given an opportunity, an escape
packed some shirts, pants, worn socks, an addiction she can’t shake
following the sun beams through the door,
humming, softly, forgetting, leaving, too late
grandma was approaching when she
got in the car, ready, with him
“Momma, don’t leave!” they cried.
“Momma wait, don’t forget us!”
The broken souls, the broken hearts, the broken lives
left behind, by a mother who was blind.

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