she looked at them with a petulant child look, but she was all grown up

and given a job with people who reminded her of her parents

whom she didn't entirely agree with

but did the job in an automatic functionality of performance

based on the only knowledge she had:

that of listening with an obstinate authenticity 

lacking in any sort of enthusiasm

as though her thoughts that she possible knew better (but did not)

were hard to keep from her face

if she tried at all.

Just for you

I know I'm such a downer
Just for you
It has nothing to do with my philosophy
The way I've lived my life
The things I've seen'
The things I've heard
The things I've read
I know I"m such a downer,
Just for you
So, I'll just change magically,
Within these few seconds
For this fleeting moment
In your fleeting eyes
That will fleetingly
But just like me
So I'm not a downer
Just for you

That grocery store floor 

Reminded her that

Any dirty floor

Was a place anyone

Could culr up into pockets of life

Bite sized

Trival

And die

So they get Soft Footing.

So they get soft footing?
They get security?
They get rights?
They get medical attention when needed?
They get food?
Shelter?
Clothing?
Life itself?
And what of US?
Nothing!
Droppings!
We get mold ceilings we hope will not cave in once more.
We get barley paid rent
Jobs held onto by threads
Of our what they think to be misguided decency
So we sit!
We think!
We watch!
We knoow
OH WE KNOW!
And they get soft footing
They get meals
Knowing,
KNOWING
The next one will always come.
So they get soft footing.

Her

All the piddering and all the paddering doesn't do a world of good.
Not when it's all the same.
All the images remain on the screen to comfort and sooth me
and I move onto the next when that one dosen't quite
affect the emotion I was looking for
No,
All the Pidderinga anda all the Paddering
Does not quite do the same
As when you were alive
And I was just a petulant teen
Sitting in a car
Waiting to do our beach laundry
Disgrntful to be sitting next to a being
So distasteful
As ones mother
OH!
Yes!
She can be so bad!
But the world?
What of the world can hold you?
Can send you with warmth?
The world that will KILL YOU
For your beliefs.
The world where you're scared
To SAY  A WORD,
No,
But  a mother,
Yes,
She is wrong,
She is unjust,
She is the one you should hate.
YES
And all this laid before you feel
Before knowing and understanding
And yes then she is gone.
But yes.
Look at your fing window.
And hate her.
Yes.
Hate her

No, this is not it either

All their faces pushed in on you.
Maybe that's what is what feeling life is all about.
Feeling indignation.
Feeling wronged
Feeling pain.
Feeling betrayal
Feeling love and hatred in the same sentence of loss and lust
Feeling a way out and not taking it
Screaming at 3 am walking around wanting nothing more for it
to go away on it's own accord
Not sitting pretty
Empty inside
Provided for
Left alone
Undisturbed.
No, this is not it either

How to be me

1. Be a good alcoholic (Don't beat people up and wear pants.)
2. Be the perfect employee (see # 1 plus show up everyday on time and try to smile, try.)
3. Be the perfect spouse (Do what's worked in the past, be the cruise director of a drowning cruise ship, try every little thing the hood taught you about saving money and/or moving it around, wink, wink and don't hurt him in anyway shape or form, you love him most in all the world because he's the only one who has and will ever give a living F about you.)
4. Be a good neighbor (Basically see # 1 and #2 plus know when to know when to stand some ground. Or don't because you're actually a pretty good neighbor. You keep it quiet. Like all the time. It's exhausting people, you're welcome!)
5. Be a good sister (Hate her until you love her again.)
6. Be a good friend (Write letters back only to those who have actually been there to weather some f'd up storms.)