Effusive

The cigarette smoke twists thinly into the air

ash

tray

is gray

And I'm trying hard not to be alone in this crowded place

hair in my eyes
jeans dirty
fingers tremble as I reach for the brown sugar
I don't want to cry unless someone is watching

It hurts hard
here
in my throat

Not

even

a bandage

I wait for my refuge and he comes walking in
I spoon the froth into my mouth
then
"I hit her"
Are the first words I say

We're on a high
way
Behind the wheel
I swerve

my life
It's not as good as the picture

On the highway

his hands

my shoulders

And I try to remember why I'm still
driving
In the wrong direction
I know no other refuge
Than the home I'm trying to leave