beer rockets launched by calloused human hands. stars circling our heads like haloes. maybe once we could’ve been cartoon characters in pete and trixie’s foster house of horrors but now we are merely shadows. useless, penniless, mindless, hopeless.
eruptions of fire from a dragon’s mouth. ducking, running, hiding, lying. broken limbs, broken dreams, broken hearts, broken homes. some dumb ass from my last school once told me, “better broken than none at all” but he’d never been in the system. so i gave him a broken nose.
once you’re in it there’s no getting out, no going home, not unless you want to make your own home. bobby told me that the first night when i couldn’t stop whimpering. he’d lived with pete and trixie the longest. he taught me all the rules in the first day i arrived and the tricks in the second, and then he disappeared out the back, leaving me in charge.
BB
