She removes her polyester suit and
Drops it crumpled onto
Her bedroom carpet each night
Lying awake beneath gritty
Sheets she always plans to
Wash tomorrow
Regretting the disorder and ruin that
Close in on her troubled 3 am mind
Someday she will not have to choose
Which bills to pay each month
Spend more money on vodka than food
Allow valiant aspirations to waste away
Like an anorexic teenager
Once she danced on shining stages nationwide
She hung her shirts neatly on cedar hangers
Once she wrote poetry and cleared her
Weary mind
She thought it could always be so.
Jan. 4, 2004
Sunday, January 4, 2004
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