-Cigarette breath- Cleaning the tears I’ve wept over the assholes who made me cry..
No this isn’t another sympathy piece, I’m wiping the tears from the creases of my eyes,
i will decide who gets the sympathy here, and it’s not me this time.
It’s for the one who has to hide the cigarette breath from his little brother even though the older brother is still the young son who has to continue to take care of his family,
all because... the mother refuses to see the bruises that stain her arm from the bottom to the top,
all from the so called friend we get from the chemicals at the bottom of the sink...
We no longer try to hide the truth from our soul that we wept to have god take control over,
we’ve faced the fact that our teeth are falling out in chunks little by little so that’s that real reason we can’t go out to apply for new jobs.
“ I’m sorry son, I’ll try again tomorrow” this line is an endless marathon that when you run every step, the finish line is further and further away, and every breath feels like an elephant is stomping on your chest and you just seem to inch away but it’s still not enough.
I will not continue to cry because of you, nor from anyone but I will cry for you.
As the son continues to roll the smoke out his mouth, as another bruise fills up his mother’s arm like a perfectionist trying to fit together the last three pieces of the puzzle, that we’ve been trying to place for months now...
I will continue to work as hard as I can to not judge you but to pray for you..