Sticky

Writing the poems
My escape
Deal with 
The everyday

You left me with
the squeak
of the door
needs to be replaced

a house now mine 
how grateful for me
to hold
the responsibility
of these three young soles 

lucky am I 
they want to be with me
hold my hand rollerskating
still
the age of fifteen

dinner with friends
“mom sit with me”
wisdom teeth out
chuck the cash their way
they can’t actually
expect you to pay

“what am I supposed to do about it”
you say
when the kid now 18
misses the bus in the city
where another was stabbed
only two nights prior
but hey
they’ll be ok