by Sam Hendrian
Needed to cut her nails
For three weeks now
But also needed a new clipper
And didn’t want to waste the dough.
Sat on the curb outside of Ralph’s
Dreaming of the afterlife
Not caring if it was heaven or hell
Since either way she wouldn’t have to dream anymore.
Rebuilt her social life six times a year
’Cause friends were always losing interest,
Squandering her loyalty
In the name of wandering.
She’d wait for better
If she thought that better was out there
Except now she’d grown to accept
Love is not something that’s meant to be kept.
Had a bit of a nervous stomach
Which she solved with cigarette breaks,
Bright spots in a day
When she had nothing else to look forward to.
With each puff she felt hope
Then hope’s distant cousin doubt,
Both black sheep in the family
Of indifferent reality.