My dad comes by
he doesn’t look so good.
His lifestyle has swollen his belly
shriveled his legs
yellowed his hair.
I don’t look so good
gaunt and glassy-eyed
my nose won’t stop running.
He blames cocaine. Nope.
bad girls do drugs,
nice girls like me
just get eating disorders,
but I let him think
I’m a cokehead.
It’s less embarrassing, besides
my life
has nothing to do with him.