My Morning After Pill

Sitting on the floor

Staring out the window

Wiping off the polish

Lost in a trance

Listening to GaGa

Post Superbowl

Acetone morning

Child on her left

Controllers and LeBron

Has no clue mama’s gone

Looking straight ahead

She listens and nods

One say he’ll remember

Mama in her towel




Her portable speaker

Words give her life

Feeling sexy today

She never knows



Both afraid

But born this way

Her eyes touch the screen

But she can’t see shit

Training herself to separate

What’s love got to do with it

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