Poetry: IT'S COOL, OFFICER, IT WASN'T ME

I surrender

to the teenage wasteland that was going to the mall, buying up every five-dollar surprise bag                                     keeping the landfill pockets flowing through plastic veins                                     and the liquid made me feel alive, if only to tear through

more    more    more

I surrender to the chemicals that layered my skin, marketed to make me a better human              as long as I bought it

                                                            because it was two-for-one

                                                            because it was on sale

need     need     need my heart still lusts for those material lifelines whispering in my ear you finally belong

                        clutching onto the pulsing voices,

     I lean in closer to hear threads ripping open,

    dropping goods at my door

and I

surrender

that I never stopped them, told myself

I didn’t know any better

I couldn’t stop                                    taking, you know?   it was so easy to steal from corner stores and ladies’ pockets            even though it wasn’t me

                                                                                                I got blamed for it all the same

by the end, I had to decide which friends were the burners and which ones got burned which ones were disposable?                                      It was my turn to set fire, ignite good riddance to cheap friendship bracelets that snap under pressure

                                                                        to watch their beads unfold

                                                                        and roll            roll                   roll

                                                                        in my palm, I count their everlasting

                                                                        devotion to me

                                                                        drop them one by one off the edge

                                                                        watch them tumble

                                                                        like they’re a purple, but

                                                                        my favourite colour is blue now

and it’s uncool to care about things that don’t matter anymore

Originally published at: https://www.windsorofchange.com/blog/2019/10/1/its-cool-officer-it-wasnt-me

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