The Reason Drugs, Alcohol and Cold Hands Disgust Me

A car is stopped on the side of the road, a tree trunk lacerating the hood, the windshield shattered

A woman sits dead in the driver's seat. Bottles of liquor litter the passenger seat.

A cup holder lined with white powder is housing the nub of a joint.

My legs are folded beneath me. My fists hang contracted at my side, arms tense.

My bloodshot blue eyes are rimmed with tears, staring down into my lap.

Four people sit slumped on a single bed. Another, a girl with crooked bangs,

Sits on the outside of their circle. She clutches a teddy bear. Her eyes are wide.

She stares at the man crying across from her.

I slam my fist into the ground repeatedly. My knuckles leave indents in the dirt.

The little girl reaches into a casket. She touches the hand of it's single occupant. She bursts into tears.

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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