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last words
february 2, 2023
the last day of my life
early today,
wind dropped the temperature twenty degrees
i had little to cope with that.
i curled up and wrapped a ratty 49ers blanket around my legs;
i was in shorts.
a tall woman in a snappy suit
marched past, skirted me by a mile
locked eyes with me for a second
and looked away,
straightening shoulderpadded jacket
what did she think she was doing?
ignoring me?
nice try, lady.
i’ve seen a million people “ignoring” me
the quicker-than-quick glance,
the straightening of the back,
the speeding up of the steps.
these self-righteous idiots.
who are they fooling?
and
as i sat there outside of dale’s laundromat
shivering, leaning against a shopping cart
i realized that
i was as much deserving of love
as the preppy-suit lady
or any of the other condescenders.
but the world disagreed.
i lay down on cold cement,
shivering,
and as if on cue-
dale, the laundromat owner,
marched out and started screaming at me
cussing, angry man
i had no patience for.
i knew that i wasn’t wanted anywhere,
but i’d had enough of here.
i struggled to my feet
piling clothes and old blankets on my shopping cart
my little dog penny yapped around dale’s legs
he kicked her away and yelled at her
i tugged her leash, come on girlie
as i began to push the shopping cart
down the strip mall.
they’ll be another place for us, penny
we trudged along
down the strip mall, to a bridge
over a dried up river
and we walked under the bridge to pitch camp.
it’s a mess down here
patches of dead, dry grass here and there
a lot of it burned up in the many fires
that people like me
accidentally start down here.
i parked my shopping cart
by a cement piling
and plopped down
penny curled up, pressed against my thigh
for warmth,
the little i seemed to have left, anyways.
and this is where you can find me now.
my life is near spent, and i’m only 34
drugs and poverty
do something to you, goes to show.
i pull a beer bottle out of the
shopping cart
and pop it open
with the bottle opener
i always have on me.
but for a brief second before I drink,
i wonder,
should i?
should i just keep on guzzling
my life away?
i tip beer down my throat.
no, it does not matter
it’s too late for me.
dead, dead while I am living.
just a ghost of who i was.
i lean back against the piling,
hoping that my death comes soon
so i don’t have to face this misery
any longer
because the misery of living
is the worst misery of all.
i remember a time when life was good
but it is a distant, distant memory now.
snow begins to fall
at least i am under the bridge,
but it’s still getting so cold.
i pull old blankets and dirty clothes
out of the cart
wrapping them around myself
just to stay alive.
penny whimpers
and i hold her closer
it’s okay, tiny girl,
just hang in there.
but i do not believe that
what i believe? nothing is going to be okay,
nothing is going to be okay.
i shiver
and pull a blanket over my greasy haired head
this is my end.
a pitiful end
to a pathetic life
and i would not wish it on my worst enemy.
as the night gets colder,
the heat leaves my body
and enters the frozen ground
and i know i am dying.
i don’t care.
i am half glad to die.
my life didn’t affect anyone anyways
i was just another homeless drunk
dirtying the city
and that may be all anyone ever thinks.
there will be no funeral when i die
for no one, no one will miss me.
however,
before i die
i want to do one thing with lasting impact.
that is why these words are written down.
the dying words
of a woman who has been dying
since the day she was born.
they will matter little to you
they are my words, my last
stupid drunken thoughts
it is all over for me
and my legacy is left in this paper
you now hold in your hands.
burn it, throw it away,
i couldn’t care less.
for once we die
our fate is out of our hands
and now,
my fate is in yours.
reader, don’t be too arrogant
to see your own failings.
have an ounce of compassion.
change the life of someone
and you will not have lived in vain.
it is too late for me
but not for you.
goodbye
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This piece is heavy but real. In my opinion, it's important to read things that are real.