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Broken Bottles

July 21, 2011
By Anonymous

Screaming travels
Three flights of stairs
Ma revs the engine
Takes a drag
Drives until dusk
To a cheap motel
Where she washes my face
Tucks me in
Paces and she drinks
Until empty bottles of liquor
Litter the carpet
And I hear Ma cry
She wails and curses
Pulls her hair
With dry sobs
She beats the wall
With broken bottles
Until dawn
When she wakes me
And combs my hair

© Anonymous

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