Donna Dallas

Field of Daisies

When the first stray “borrowed” 
my sterling silver belt buckle
along with my gold diamond pendant 
I knew I was making this sacrifice 
for his happiness and accepted this fate 
knowing full well these precious items
would never return to me

What returned?

Stone cold eyes 
seeking more valuables to pawn 
vicious fists to prove the road to sobriety 
was non-existent 

He was broken to the point of leakage
and I was in love 
with filling his cracks
I’d anoint the ooze 
to stop his bleed
my endless gauzing and soaking
the bleed disguised 
as an uncontrollable spigot 

The battered path to hell is glorious 
when hell is disguised as a sweet two room apartment 
with a petite backyard 
while stray number two lingered in the dark corridor 
waiting to be saved 
by yours truly 

We were homeless by the following spring 
I was prostituting to support our habits
I lovingly accepted this affliction 
because A. I was never taught how to say no 
and/or B. Not enough belief that I truly own
the right of refusal 

Fast forward to my arrest
central booking 
plead of insanity 
I was escorted to B-block at the institution 
and happily underwent rehab
I say happily as a complete lie 
it was death over and over 
I would have preferred to have been hit by an eighteen-wheeler 
over and over

And yet the lessons lay like a field of daisies I refused to enter into

Anytime I felt hurt I would fuck someone 

Later when wandering the streets
I ventured upon the next stray 
who became my loving pimp 
we engaged upon a merry-go-round of bandaging 
plugging 
shooting up and fixing 

Shit…I fixed no one  

I am so broken I’m a cracked piece 
of some bigger thing that is shattered 

So I’m trying to fix this last one 
when I ain’t even found my missing parts

no glue or magical cement gonna work

I’ve accepted this…..
I go to the bathroom 
pull the band-aids out 
of the wrecked and peeling medicine cabinet 
salve his ooze
tell him it’s going to be ok
we will kick this 
again