Part Three: The Inadequacy of Care

“I don’t feel worth a damn.”

Kneeling at your bedside, I see your mangled hand.

I apologize for the needle’s sting, jabbing in quick fine motions beneath your skin.

Trademark stickers, grigri, and plushie keychains adorn her walker.

The call comes in, they’re at it again

At the workplace

It’s no one’s idea of fun to watch a drug-addict father