My spoken version of “poor junkie, always needed someone to hold your heart”
she accepted her fate the day she was born. she was expected to never respect those who misdirected her. yet she was told to accept the fact that no one would protect her fragile heart, she would be on her own from her first breaths. there had never been any sign of neglect, but all she could do was wait for the moment when she was left bereft, lying on the cold hard steps of her expected acceptance. nowhere to run, so she crept dragging herself forward as if beckoned by the wreckage. she shot numbness into the cleft of her left arm, in darkness she wept and wept, decked in her one and only dress, depressed- no one can love those who have been left to die unkempt and selected to accept the only fate they have ever known.