"The failing use of my right hand
isn’t actually the failing use of my right hand
it’s just another way to tell the time
and I’m ticking
so I’ve been picking myself up at bars
with a bottle in each hand
but I never give myself any play
I only make plans with myself for the day after next
but by the time the sun swings back around into position
I forget the context of why I asked myself out
in the first place
did I think I was going to score?
I let a stranger pour me one more
she says
my name is Sara
doesn’t take much more than that
to start a relationship
My darling, Sara
cleans rooms for a living
giving her youth and beauty
to dirt and dust
understands more than most
that family must be the foot you put forward first
you must weather the worst together
but having never met her family
she places love above all else
then protests that I use the word love
too freely in poems
and I should really just say what I mean
and I suppose what I mean most is that
I’m trying
she’s been buying me time
on a maxed out credit card
arms scarred from selling her own blood
to pay down the debt
tells me she doesn’t mind going broke
just so long as I can give her a little sweat
she says
try
so I do my best impression
of a pen
and when every problem looks like a page
I commit ink to paper
the worth of the words that come out
determines my wage
I’ve been making enough
to pay her the compliment
of not quitting..
of not sitting
when standing is required
she only asks that I put the effort in
and in return she’s willing
to pin a paper heart to her chest
then do her best impression
of a target
She tells me that effort
is the siamese twin of success
