Lisa Was

Lisa was wild smiles and spontaneity
cascading laughter skipping stumbling
down the street and Lisa was one
long string of piss-fucking-poor decisions

Lisa was my friend
Lisa was
my friend
Lisa was

Lisa was the apple of her mother’s eye
awkwardly growing too too tall and all
ankles and knees and elbows and Lisa was
nights awake wondering if she was alive

Lisa was a daughter
Lisa was
a daughter
Lisa was

Lisa was the lifetime love of many men
crazy and fickle and impossible to hold
lust and need and whiskey breath and Lisa was
dead weight her boys would try to drag from bed

Lisa was a wife
Lisa was
a mother
Lisa was

Lisa was track marks and second chances
pus-filled wounds hidden under blouses
broken promises lying promises and Lisa was
a cold and rigid form beneath a sheet

Lisa was an addict
Lisa was
a junkie
Lisa was

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