White Boys

Something in me popped
Just stopped— and as I waited around I mopped up the dreams I dreamt when I was a kid and you said I could do anything- be anywhere be anyone- even no one… I thought I’d be someone.

They spilled… Into a bottle of pills that I take when I go through the bills cause the numbers beat in my head – I want to go back to bed most days– the dreams just don’t pay and never did– you said when I was a kid- to just keep trying and someday I would get there… But where? Over there? Cause it sure ain’t here. That much is clear. I’m not bitter. Just sad… I hope you’re not mad- a bottle of glitter and Elmer’s glue could not make this picture pretty again– no matter who was my friend- not even in high places- I’ve seen their faces. Stoic and caught off guard but still not willing to budge cause their piece of the pie is too hard to come by so they’d rather die than to share it. I get it. Don’t sweat it. I got this. Alone. With my phone in my hand… Slipping away like quicksand along with its 2,000 numbers that call out to no one… It’s blank outside. The sky is erased. And in my mind there’s paste and waste from the last ten go arounds. Turnarounds. Been arounds- all those sounds are too loud now- white noise – white boys and I’m back at one.

Photo Credit: mildiou2 Flickr via Compfight cc

One Comment
  1. Dori Owen

    Elizabeth, I love this so much. Your stream of consciousness words could have come straight out of my mouth. “…glitter and Elmer’s glue could not make this picture pretty again.” Brilliant.

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