Prose soap

[gypsiejunkie]

a pull out couch
we picked up off the curb
had been outside for a month.
he finally brought it in
while waiting for his mother to show up
it would be an hour or two
(unless she stops at the casino
in which case it could be tomorrow).

myself?
i was stuck.
shimmying
like my cat.

for whatever reason,
i had been so frozen for days.
you start to wonder
if something is wrong with you
but ignore your health like you do
the collection agencies and utility bills.

i helped him keep the screen door
open and shove the couch to the middle
of the living room.
the house is coming around
he calls it a construction site
i call it a trap house,
it does seem a lot more welcoming than it did when i first started coming around though.
i don’t know if i just acclimated to the madness,
or if it was the work they put into it.

today, i finally left the room.
it’s been days
four maybe even five,
barely leaving, even to go pee.
avoiding any interactions-the least human contact possible
except him
that i drive crazy i am sure.

I am relentless

i went outside today
climbed a tree
did some research.
i thought maybe someday
i will be remembered as a
human being because
sometimes i forget,
i could be someone-
i have something to say other
than i’m sorry because
that only goes so far.

i don’t know how
i got so fucked up
apparently the combination
weed/meth/valium
can make you feel
some type of way.

he is driving me crazy now
it isn’t a bad kind of crazy,
it was just that he was
pretty high and being a spaz.

the neighbor had been helping
us in the yard and walked in the house
behind us.
i was informed that
he was going to smoke with us.
i never figured it out-
whether we were
smoking his weed,
or he was smoking our speed.
(i love when i accidently rhyme and it’s some fucked up shit that you can’t say in public, or shouldn’t say
but you do anyway and people look at you crazy)

i turned on the stereo and
the neighbor wanted to know what
fiona apple song i played before.
that was forever ago,
before kenny got stabbed.
kenny had karaoke going but
good god that man can not sing.
i get really into fiona apple though.

i am kind of losing hope
that i am ever going to get out of this.
and every day i think about my kids
i try to
but i get so sad
i feel so much guilt
its worse for them
i know that, but
now i feel more guilty

i think about them
and i wish
that i could
change.
i try to commit
to at least
trying.
i try to have
hope
motivation
something
but its dissipating.

for a time
it was just me and him
we never left his room.
we hid from the world and
from our concerned family and friends
but that was back
before
before the room
became what it is now.
it's a trap i tell you.

anyway,
he told me that
his mother said
when he was
little
(small);
his mother told him
when he took a bath,
he tried to save the soap
from dissipating.
my hope
is like his soap.

motherfucker

 

[JimBobWho?]

i could be someone-
i have something to say other
than i’m sorry because
that only goes so far.

Deep line.