a game of uno

meeting him as a kid,

cold and indifferent,

but mostly confused and scared,

i took him under my wing:



dull dead eyes,

gray skin dotted with red sores,

and a murmur barely recognizable

as speech.

neither living

nor dead.


bony hands eager to feel,

tired feet eager to move,

he was driven by

a thirst for adventure

he never satisifed.


i was an asshole then,

angry and wreckless.

we were complete opposites,

and it was evident that

he despised me.



we were both alone.

we were both lost.


countless fights,

bickering and insults without end.

drinking and smoking,

driving down the street on a moped,

yelling and laughing our lungs dry.

making moves on the young girls,

desperate for pussy

and ecstasy.


getting laid and bragging to me about it,

using his head and thinking the



a brilliant mind


such an




but the good times were not enough.

we grew apart.

yet, i'll never forget

you beating the shit out

of me

after i suggested

i have sex with your girlfriend.


that, and the time you gave

me a home

as i staggered through

the streets disoriented.

freshly carved, self inflicted

scars etched on my body.

losing myself.


you offered me a home

and a game of uno.


that's the most anyone ever did for me.

This poem is about: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741