I've posted these before I think. Just had a very senior moment and want to save them.
She sits there,
like *The Dad*on his scooter,
same smile,
same dark tinted glasses,
same teeth.
She sits there,
pale thin ankles,
wrists like twigs,
hopeful grin,
fearful grin.
She sits there,
on *The Dads* scooter,
I feel I've condemned her,
she sits there,
with nothing but time,
with not enough time,
I mourn her already.
She sits there,
for how long?
I love her,
my sister,
my heart,
my last hope at family.
An excerpt from something I was working on but mis-placed. (Read: Old lady loses file) Posting to save it.
**This is where Corn girl learned to attempt to drown her inner alcoholic, to shut her the fuck up.
Corn Girl’s alcoholic has a great memory, she remembers every slight, every insult, every bad thing that ever happened. Oddly enough she dosen’t remember the good times as much, she dosen’t remember being safe and warm and happy, playing with the G’s and Nana and Ray.
Corn Girls alcoholic is a dramatic sneaky little bitch that has taken over Corn Girl’s body. A lying selfish sack of agony that Corn Girl can’t drown out, can’t get to shut up about it already.
The alcoholic living in Corn Girl has no mute button, no sense of humor, no off switch and no time for anything but Corn Girl’s shrinking world.
I can picture her inside Corn Girl, a flawless milky white complexion with light blue veins barely visible, with beautiful shiny red hair and the white teeth that Corn Girl had as a teen. She’s laughing and swimming in the liquid alongside Corn Girl's youth and energy, her sense of pride and self esteem, her sense of the absurd. They swim in perfect synchronization, like Esther Williams and her girls.
