“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