(no subject)
it's the same thing again, like i knew it might be. hoped against it, naturally, but i knew because it's always the same. just exactly. i take it, i do nothing. i walk to the window and watch the rain. what changes are the good things; every fucked up thing stays the same.
my hair is falling out and i am months past needing foot surgery, weeks from an appointment with the specialist. I hobble around with my cane, co-workers stare, don't offer to help. 10-12 hours a day, seven days a week is good pay, bad for everything else.
this morning the cat with one blue, one brown eye followed me to my car, crying crying crying. a hungry cry, i know hunger. "I can't feed you," I apologize, "or I'll be late for work." i drive to the drugstore and back, give him a can, then speed away. i am desperate for some measure of compassion, even if it is only my own.
my hair is falling out and i am months past needing foot surgery, weeks from an appointment with the specialist. I hobble around with my cane, co-workers stare, don't offer to help. 10-12 hours a day, seven days a week is good pay, bad for everything else.
this morning the cat with one blue, one brown eye followed me to my car, crying crying crying. a hungry cry, i know hunger. "I can't feed you," I apologize, "or I'll be late for work." i drive to the drugstore and back, give him a can, then speed away. i am desperate for some measure of compassion, even if it is only my own.