I spend too much time slipping
out the door and stomping
out sobriety like a cigarette butt.
I come home and watch the mirror
for the weather: hard rains and a heavy sun:
sunscreen in my eyes and umbrellas on the mind.
But humidity breeds flaccid anger so I hide in my room with the AC blasting white highway noise into half-lucid wet dreams where she pulls my hair and he lies dead at my feet.
My truth tastes like secrets tastes like apples and pussy and beer and
I spend too much time smoking to ever really remember how it feels in my hands but if I had to guess I’d say it feels like my best friends breasts.
Annie Loucka, Age 16, Grade 11, Bard High School Early College, Silver Key