Who Is Actually Perceiving
new song


at least I'm not sixteen anymore

drinking all the hard stuff

I can find in anyone's basement or

get men in parking lots of liquor stores

to buy for me in brown paper bags. Keeping it down

with greasy chicken sandwiches, chocolate

and gasoline

stolen with my mouth on a hose into an old

metal can. Blacking out in back seats


or $15 motel rooms, getting

the hot fevers in the early

hours of blizzards

that burned my dreams into ashes

caught in the low hanging branches

in the woods behind the church. Staying forever


homeless, completely completely abandoned - 

knowing God has cut me out or

it was my mother who sucker punched me over and over and left 

me bleeding, jagged, feral - 

begging to be free.





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