As I stare down at my empty pill botlle I feel a few things, bitterness, confusion, and mortality. How did it get to this? I used to be Free, right? I'm having a hard time remembering but I know I used to be Free. Careless. Unburdened. No regrets.
How can I Hate the thing that helps me so much? Does a person with a broken leg throw away their crutch?
My day has already been bad but as I look at his photo it only gets worse.
It was your 50th state in 50 years. You always had the time for whatever stupid stories we had to tell. Or whatever drama occured on the walk home.
I didn't really know you that well and you taught old stuff about Ancient Greece and I alwyas found that kinda boring but I have your face on a Christmas card hanging on my fridge so I guess that counts for something.
But then again, sometimes I forget you died so maybe it counts for nothing.
How can I Hate the thing that helps me so much? Does a person with a broken leg throw away their crutch?
My day has already been bad but as I look at his photo it only gets worse.
It was your 50th state in 50 years. You always had the time for whatever stupid stories we had to tell. Or whatever drama occured on the walk home.
I didn't really know you that well and you taught old stuff about Ancient Greece and I alwyas found that kinda boring but I have your face on a Christmas card hanging on my fridge so I guess that counts for something.
But then again, sometimes I forget you died so maybe it counts for nothing.
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