the drab

the distance we walked to find ourselves was not enough.
we sit in dark alleys and burn butts down to the nub in hopes 
of burning our fingers and 
we wait in parked cars outside houses for thirty 
minutes, silence, before going in. 
there was never any hope. 

we tried to fool them but we had nothing to begin with. 
if you're born broken can you ever be fixed?
   i honestly don't know anymore. 

- Charlotte Griffiths