Who Cares (Written August 27)

Who Cares

 

I’ve been saving this one up for years,

Waiting for the right moment.

I want to see the look on your face.

 

I want to know what you have to say.

I want to know what you think.

I want to know many things,

 

But something inside me moves me

Further and further away. You ask me

If I am well, and I answer, No, I am not well,

 

I have not been well since the day you left,

Without so much as a good-bye. The room

Smells of licorice and mint. Is this to hide

 

The whiskey you drink? The whiskey

You always drank? I was eight the day

I saw you, from the top of the stairs,

 

With your hand in the cookie jar,

And you mind on escape. Who cares

If you live or die. I don’t.

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