you used to work at every corner.

supplies stashed in the walls of your room,

money found underneath your bed.

hustling in the frigid, New York streets,

day and night, night and day.


you used that money to support the other family.

the family with fabricated smiles and absurd attitudes.

that girl had only liked me because i was yours,

now she wishes i was rotting with you.


you used to say that you would never leave my side,

you promised.

but now i am here all alone,

because you chose the drugs over the girl carrying your bones.

Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
My family


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