Chimera

It's in the everyday little things—

Hiding her lighters at the age of five

Waiting alone in the car

while she tried to score

Stealing her drugs and dealing them

so you can buy something to eat

Lying to the social workers

Fearing the man you're

supposed to look up to

Not telling his girlfriend

about the other two

Hating it when the school bell rang

knowing you had nowhere

else to go but home

Switching roles with the thirty-two year old

Becoming their marionette

to pay the price for her mistakes

Knowing you're being paid in blood

and not letting it faze you

Being a freshman and needing

the love of a twenty-three year old

Being twenty-one and

it not being special

because you've been drinking

the nightmares away for three years

Telling yourself to

pour yourself a drink

put on some lipstick

and pull yourself together—

You doing just that

every morning before work

Being robbed of a childhood—

You can't lose what you never had