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Gone
From the book:
Seventeen
Running away tonight I call
the last person I want to talk to,
quivered voice ready to go off
in a burst of tears at any moment.
Packing a grocery bag with
clothes, change, I make vaporous
promises I won't be around to keep,
eyeing the window, I'm not alone
one more time before burrowing out
like a ferret.
And I fail. My fingers get stuck on the
latch and I drag myself in, with 3 lbs of
dirt and 12 of humiliation rubbed into the carpet.
I lack the balls to destroy my own life
with crack and whoring and all
the other things I watched on Cops
from my white carpeted bedroom.
And in the morning, there is more.
There is always more.
Seventeen
Running away tonight I call
the last person I want to talk to,
quivered voice ready to go off
in a burst of tears at any moment.
Packing a grocery bag with
clothes, change, I make vaporous
promises I won't be around to keep,
eyeing the window, I'm not alone
one more time before burrowing out
like a ferret.
And I fail. My fingers get stuck on the
latch and I drag myself in, with 3 lbs of
dirt and 12 of humiliation rubbed into the carpet.
I lack the balls to destroy my own life
with crack and whoring and all
the other things I watched on Cops
from my white carpeted bedroom.
And in the morning, there is more.
There is always more.
40 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2010
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