Tuesday, July 25, 2017

It's Only 8:30.

This place smells of dust and the bathroom needs cleaning badly.
Your room should be a sanctuary, I've read. Not hardly.
Maybe my bed is, but once you climb up out of there
It's pretty grim.

Tried to sleep with thoughts of a young addicted mother in treatment
Visiting with her two very young children who didn't want to let her go
When it was time for them to leave with their grandparents
 "Don't leave us1", they cried. And she cried too. Rivers of tears.

And then a phone call that one of the staff, barely in her 20s, suddenly lost her
Father tonight. She is also crying. And then the other job calls
To say there are three people already waiting to be seen - heroin, no doubt
Having something to do with that.

People lose things, people break down - all so lonely and tied together.
I should at least vacuum in here, dust, unclog the drain in the sink.
I should drag everything outside and pile it high and,
With a gallon of accelerant, ignite a pire in memory of it all.

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