Professional Victim

Standard

Into the car, both sixteen

Not knowing you were drunk

Waking up in the ER, sent home

Waking up at home, leg not obeying me.

Broken back, you came with gifts

I still have one

You escaped to college early

Left me behind

Later in your house

When I said, “You drink too much,”

You said I was a Professional Victim.

You imploded

Tuesday night, you died.

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