q .:|:. cbd

i.

Why was I born?
we don't have hands anymore
because we are twelve years old and
that old man gave us shrooms so
we use our wrists to pick things up
i cry because i'll never draw again.

ii.

Why was I born?
"I can't fucking read."
"You don't gotta read to be a whore."

iii.

Why was I born?
the first time he fucked me
i was eleven but everyone said
i looked like i was eight.
what type of fuck
wants to fuck
a kid?

iv.

Why was I born?
i'm thirteen years old and i wake up
on a mattress
in an alley with a hangover
a stranger presses his lips against
my shoulder.
"Happy birthday."

v.

Why was I born?
"Kid, you can draw pretty fucking good."
he hands me a tool and says to draw on his skin for him.
there's a gun in his waist band.
i eye it as i draw.
there's not enough alcohol in me for this
he looks at me, sees me eyeing it.
"Want one of your own?"
he smirks.
i do.

vi.

Why was I born?
i'm in the gang for two days before i find my way back home.
my parents are in the dining room
i go down the hall
gun in my hand
my whole body shakes
i go down the hall
the fucking longest hall i've ever walked down
i stop outside the door
there are my parents
talking
i raise the gun
i'm gonna shoot him in his fucked up head.
but i can't.

vii.

Why was I born?
started as the gang pet now they
fawn at my feet just to get some
ink.
at 5'2'' i look harmless
i didn't kill him
don't mean i killed no one.
sixteen years old
4 bullets out
2 in.