She twists nervously ordering more food than I could eat, though I didn't even consider if she needed it or had someone else to feed also. Still they do not get her order right in their desire to see her leave as soon as possible, then argue when she tries to straighten it out. To punish her perhaps the charge her for two sauce packets that to me would be free, going so far as to break her twenty dollar bill for twenty-two cents worth of sauce. She doesn't complain and laden with food turns to leave her eyes wild with whatever drug she's on and lust for the food hot in her arms.
She has a lot of money for someone so disheveled and sloppily high, the drugs should have devoured the cash before she had a chance to feed herself. It's lost its chance now, i wonder will she regret the food when her ride starts to ebb? I sneer to myself at her condition, but then she turns and her face is too young to be as hard as my thoughts. I remember my own high times twitching and giggling my way up to counters like this for coffee and something fried. Lauging in the faces of young and old alike who wanted me to leave before I could FREAK OUT though that hardly ever happened.
So when she turns back to me I smile, half in memory of my own , half in guilt for judging as my own nemisi had judged me.
She gave such a twisted goofy grin that said "Yeah! Man! You know where I am!" Exclamation points in her eyes to see someone not shooting hate or disgust her way. I am ashamed at how jaded my own thoughts had become..
Or maybe she really is that young unwed heathen crack whore mother who sold her babies for a bag of coke and twenty-two cents worth of dipping sauce ..
I'm sorry.
6/08/04
and bloody rocks hard off my bow
I called to the mate "don't let me down
Or we'll all visit Davy Jones to drown!"
We pulled all night to save our lives
and the fight pulled up behind
I called to the mate "come grab your knives
fight for your ship and fight for your lives