Being thrown out to the curb , was never new for a kid like me growning up, it was my normal,...
always left to pick up all the little broken pieces of the "adults"
id watch them crash , and burn them toss gasoline on there beat up hearts and they strike the match and watch the fucker burn, and right down to the bottom of every bottle they could find , then each and everyone , would look at me , with the look , the look of puppy dog eyes and a lip that hung so low I swear a bird could fly right up and rest on it , every day , the same ,tears ,sweat ,and the same old whiskey on there breath and noone else left to preach to and pick them up, so they look to me , as I'm used to keeping my end of the curb up n running, so noone is stepping on Glass,
I'm one of these kids who are used to
sweeping all these broken glass shattered hearts every night , no madder where I go , cause I guess some of us have to ,were the world's janitor right from the start, were given no choice , that is ....
if we don't want to cut up our feet, and follow the same bloody foot prints , following the same pathways of empty bottles , , cause after all if we're not taking the heart ache , who else will?
© Who_took_my_cookie_420