It’s hard to believe sometimes
How much people’ve doubted me
I never mess with anybody
Keep to my own really
I just mind my business
But the moment I excel
The moment I start winning
Heathens are what they become
The least helpful of all
If I show any interest
They shut me down completely
I don’t really care though
Okay, I might be lying
But these aren’t my people
Don’t really need their approval
Because look here and see
When I’m up and out
I’m not taking new friends
If you weren’t here before
I won’t need you then
About the Creator
Robbie Bale
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Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson3 days ago in Fiction
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