Better Off Alone (poem)

A quick suicide with a two-sided razor,

If I added my blood—it’s just for flavor.

I watched over her like a worried mother,

Surveyed her surrender to a Soma Coma

And I would never judge her because

I understand her disease and her need

To escape from this quality of life & this cost of ‘living’

And the erroneous tee-vees that act like it’s reality they’re giving.

Her head,

It starts to nod.

Her words,

Get blurred and she starts to sob,

Over how she needs to get a job.

& I think that it’s odd

that her head starts to bob

And she looks less like hippie and more like odd.

I’m indentured.

Should not have ventured this far from home.

Sadly comprehending

                I’m better off alone.