September 2, 2017 by Moony
Inspired by my stupid week and my cat who has to pee on my bed at late hours of the night.
Drives to corporate America spent in cooling summer nights remind me that I can only swallow so much ash at a time.
Cotton mouthed and tired, worn beyond bone and spirit to a carnal rage, basic instinct of a 20 something woman who can”t handle her shit without pills and help she can’t make time to afford.
A long shuffling line wrapped with people in various states of not giving a fuck. Aching feet and my own numbed careless swaying leaves little to be remembered.
“How are you tonight?”
If I told you the truth would you be willing to hear it? If I wanted to speak, would it matter? Could my waterproof mattress protector do anything more than keep a bed dry for a night?