HOME | DD

Description
I walk through the wide
open door at 1:08 am on
Monday morning, Smelling
like wet dog. Nobody noticed
me when I slammed the
unhinged door shut. Moms
drunk for the seventh day in
a row and Dads shooting up
across the hall again with his
acquaintance Mr. Cocaine.
I can't stand living in this place,
I always feel like an antique
violin being tossed against
these coffee smudged walls.

Deep in the shadows
of this opaque night,
I sit on the sidewalk
in downtown Vancouver
on 5th and Cambie. With
a handful of salty tears
in my rough ocean eyes.

Blood stains are on my
ripped holey jeans and
crawling through the faded
blue fabric. I feel phlegmatic
as my heartbeat pumps slower,
like a turtle stalking its prey.