I was a "surprise" when I was born.

A weak little thing with jaundice

and startling black eyes

Big momma predicted I'd be neurotic

By five

My brow was permanently furrowed

That year we moved into the house

with blue shutters

Its sagging yellow walls

Became a collection of shrieking holes

Age ten, spindly legs, wool knee socks

I am about the size of a whisper

I entered the land without roses

The shadows were watching me even then

I moved about like a cloud

every day in my green plaid

I was fed plenty of dirt sandwiches

In high school I downed dozens of diet pills before gym

I liked seeing those spots of darkness

Dance over everything

I remember the smell of old sweat

on a heap of dusty mats

Those crumbling cinderblock walls...

The dead angel wrapped in a wail of blood

called my name over and over

what a dark and windowless world

Now, I emit opium

I move slowly as a leaf on water

counting each step

Day after day I return

to my empty apartment

to eat cold soup with thin limbs

Every morning I'm propelled by pills

The white one, the purple, the green--

Lonely as a beetle 

with startling black eyes

Wearing death upon my breast like a pin