The taco truck across from the MRoom

Anxiety Attacks and sucker punches

I didn’t want to go but I 

knew I was expected to.  So

 I went to the place where the

 bass shook my rag-doll form into 

the floor.  Faces bled, merged.  and

I was chased to the back lot, to the

car behind Girard, where my

stomach rolled and I puked,

hard.  So much.  I shouldn’t have

had tacos.  Just like you shouldn’t

sucker punch people but I did and

he did and Cory’s head bounced off

the front of Lauren’s grandmother’s

Volvo.  Tried to grin but kind of just

ground my teeth instead.  Gulped

cold water.  gargled.  spat.  peeled

Cory off the sidewalk.  Tried to ignore

the dent but it glared at us from the 

beaten red fender.

we didn’t go back in.