new year, old her
scared of nothing
worth the fear
who knew nothing
of the world
watched with clean eyes
lucky
she knew she was
but didn’t know
the possibilities that mold and fur
on the tongue
the promises of freedom
that smoldered
like the end of a cigarette
snuffed out
walking by
faceless people dying on faceless ground
turning heads away from death
kicking change from Big Gulp cups
because there aren’t any Coinstars where we’re going
where we’re going
some argue is already written
but the news is always new
always angry
spitting words wedged between molars
spoken without pause
not meant to be held by a head
how can shoulders bear
the weight?
waiting for the refresh to stop
circling the drain
staring at the screen
calling it a friend
because who has friends these days?
red veins where the whites were
it’s time to go to sleep; dreaming in blue
forget today and tomorrow
the next day
too—late for living
is this what the world always was?
we are told things were better
but were they ever
what we remember?
the skin she was born with
that was supple and growing
is no longer growing
but dying
bleeding with knowing
knowing all there is
to be scared of
and there is so much to be scared of.
