G,B,I Part II

  [Authors Note: Trigger Warning, self harm]

Three childhood friends all in tears,
    unabashedly fearful this was the last
               sunset we’d ever witness
          just because a mother said
                          they’re grounded

             The once-changed trio
                       wandering a quiet city &
               trespassing school property
                         just to use the swings
               nevermind the old man watching
                & when he asked I gave him
              a fake name, but he probably knew
                      that’s why he chuckled
                                           “Raven?”

              my cousin’s silence 
     while I led her astray
                 to my daffodil haven
                      & smoked a joint/
               my silence when I visited
                     later and discovered
         she was higher than I ever was

  the broken glass I carved into my thighs
                   on my best friend’s bed
          blood that went on and on &
                the look of shock so real
                     on his face
             he couldn’t unfurl his tongue/
                          just close the door

     the night I ate half a methadone pill
 not knowing it was a substitute for heroin
             not knowing/ very much/ at all
        just that I’d gone
                        temporarily deaf
          in one ear [crawling because I can’t
                                                          stand]

                  the awkward car ride
                Jim Beam in his one hand
         .   .           & the other      .   . 
                       finding a direct path
                          between my thighs
                  [maybe that’s why I sliced them]
  
    the demon couple on my dealer’s
                balcony, the way she rubbed
                     his shoulders, then
                                   he started selling
                                tar instead of trees

                       the random find
         in a burning bush full of fireflies
              a dark forest to remind
                    Magic is [alive] and well
     
        the smell of a factory in Lynchburg
                 utterances of a dry county
             yet golden whiskey is sealed
                               everywhere

          the stallion at my brother’s wedding
             renovated barn made a venue
                  the bee on my mother’s cup
                I made it halfway ’round before
                  being sternly warned
        from chasing her with her worst fear
     
                    the distress in the call
                           to my father that day
          he said things would never change
                            it’ll always be the same
                        so I remember
                                log it all down and
                               torch the center

–LM