A hook to my face, I’m wobbly
A kiss to my neck, I’m smiling
PTSD. Depression. Anxiety.
A car on its back, teetering
shattered glass at my feet –
are you afraid of debt or death?
A life unlived, so much and so little
I want the prestige; I want a voice
I want all the things I denied myself.
That’s not my life -why the fuck not?