user, part two (recovery)

she never sees the heavens when she looks up at
the stars, and she feels like a dog, chasing an
endless line of cars. the people, they all pass her by,
on their way to somewhere, living their own sets
of semi-transparent lies. but she isn’t one of them and can’t
begin to pretend, her fate’s her own and she prays
that someday soon she’ll start to mend. and sometimes they
call her, her old friends, but mostly they don’t as she tries to still
her shaking hands.

and they never told her it would be easy, they never
told her much. it’s just another car going down another
blistered road. she watches as the taillights disappear.

here she is, in hell at times, but mostly in between.
there’s nothing much she’d rather be, because
she wouldn’t know what difference it would
mean. so she lives her life like a line drawn by a careless
finger in the sand, and she’s getting better but
she doesn’t even know it anymore, she doesn’t
have a plan.

Original