lost dorothy

 

sitting on my dirty bed, side by side, she is

looking at her hands and picking at holes in her jeans

and sobbing. she is wearing that black and white

striped sweater that falls off her shoulders, no bra,

and her hair is a glorious wreck. and she is sobbing,

what a picture

i just stare

“I just want to break s**t, set s**t on fire.”

i know she means break herself, set herself on fire

her doe eyes, doll eyes, look up at me so glossy and

her mouth is open, there is a string of saliva stretched

between her upper set and lower set of teeth but she is

so pretty. she runs her tongue between her teeth

as if she is reading my mind

“I am ready to go home now, I haven't found myself, I've lost myself here”

and she chokes, like she knows there is no such place, lost dorothy

and now i picture her in white flowy gauze for a dress and

white high heels walking clumsily through a graveyard,

pale and walking, this is how i see her right now

beat happening plays in the background,

“when i saw you” repeats over and over, over and over,

i swear i see her little lips say “crimson and clover”

really she says “I am so... so over... over this”

i want to hug her, pat her hair down, touch her knuckles,

something, anything, but i know she would cringe

but what do i know

she's the only one who knows

she gets it

 

“I just don't get it”

 

back and forth, paddle-ball, what do you say to a game

of paddle-ball