Song of Marie
By sweetbrother
Fifty tablets of Motrin brought her here for a breakfast of charcoal and five days under watchful eyes She felt unloved; she sought to tell those who knew her this is what can happen when people don't care Her peers laugh and call her fat while grown men tremble in the wake her curves Her hair is locking luxuriously nappy under the wig she wears to school She spends these days here beside me drawing fashion designs her models all have full round hips I am quiet beside her she doesn't mind she knows she has my attention She likes to sing and dance for me; under my gaze she feels loved.It's been exactly a year since I met Marie on a psychiatric ward; I'd like to think we both helped each other the ugly times we were going through. I haven't seen or heard from her since; I hope she's well, and that her year has been better than mine. Written December 10th, 2001 © on Dec 10 2001 01:50 AM PST 10 • 0
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"Fifty tablets of Motrin..."