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might be nice. I don’t have
anywhere I need to go.
First things first. “I have
to call home. My mom
probably thinks we slid off
into a snowbank. Give me
a kiss for courage.”
Mom May Be Worried
But she chooses an entirely
different tack than I expected.
You think I don’t know what’s up
with you? Why you don’t eat?
Why we catch you awake all
hours of the day? Why you stutter
your way through simple sentences?
How dense do you think we are?
You’re using. I can smell
the speed, the tobacco, too.
Cigarettes aren’t illegal, but
crystal meth is, and I won’t have
that stuff in my house. Why would
you bring it around your baby?
You’re right. You’re eighteen now.
It’s your life, so maybe I shouldn’t
worry about how you live it. But
you’re still my daughter and I love you.
We’ll get you help if you need it.
But you have to stop, and stop now.
You’re a danger to your baby.
You’re a danger to yourself.
