A poem about people trying to live in a shameful way, but not giving up on their independence even though it costs them their dignity.

We can live,
Dine in the cellar with the musty, mildew humidity,
And the cotton candied fiber glass.
We’ll wear our napkins round our necks
And wipe our hands on our jeans.
We can live
Like the cockroach collecting bread crumbs as we go.
Pouring red waterfall of bedside, midnight wine,
While classic horror films play on a black and white TV.
We can live,
And we’ll pop pills like dinner mints
And drink until the memories all fade,
Cracking porcelain doll faces because we know
We could never be as beautiful.
We can live.
The ground will flow with cigarette butts,
And candy hearts with messages
I would never give to you
And you would never give to me.
We can live
Until we make the tower fall with every block we take away,
All the pine scented blocks.
Play Tic Tac Toe in garden dirt
Like children that we were not so long ago.
We can live,
Put our skeletons in the pantry
Because the closets way to full.
Coffee stains on all our clothes,
And urine on the bed with no sheets.
We can live
As long as God is looking away.
We can live
As long as no one knows how we’re living.

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