It was the day Ronald died, that everything changed.
Depression the doctor said. “nothing too serious. Nothing too bad”
Great she thought he’d know what to do with me.
“Take anti-depressants. One in the morning. Two at night”
It was just couple of years ago now, flags still weaver at half-mast. No one yet remembers.
It was Sunday morning the sky was the canvas of the awakening city. The sun rose shyly, blushing behind the buildings as wind swirled statically through the bald trees.
Kelly the social worker was at the corner of the street, when the sound of a gunshot broke the airs electric silence. She wasn’t on duty that day and she had sworn to God nothing would stop her from taking her day off. But as she heard the fired artillery, her phone slipped through her fingers from sheer panic. There it was. Her phone. Smashing on the floor. #R.I.P.
At once everything became meaningless. Life was meaningless. #Depressed #NoPhone. What else had she to lose? and thereupon she thought, she’d walk towards the skeleton, of the old building, left through the street of Oregon.
When Kelly arrived, the smell of decaying flowers invaded her nostrils. Debating whether to walk inside or walk along; again she thought, what else am I to lose? I have no phone, anymore. And so she opened the door, letting the fragrance of rotten roses wash off her mascara and her upholstered face. Thank god I have no phone, no pictures of me can be done.
Overwhelmed by her senses, she noticed a trail of pillboxes on the floor, which sung a melody of angels. Follow me, drink me. There’s no need to plea. I’m your glee. The deeper she walked into the house the more dishevelled it became. Empty bottles, lit the floor and shone upon the walls.
At the end of the aisle a dim light travelled through the grime, light that trailed Kelly to the door. Opening the door, she found an old lady, lying in bed. Ciara – her name carved on the top, of the mahogany headboard. She’s dead, Kelly thought, she’s dead! Presto Presto! Call the cops. #WTF. Kelly urged to pick up the phone but as she dialled 911, Ciara grabbed her thumb “You. You, look what you’ve done”.
#O M G, what have I done?
As she woke up from her stupor,
She found herself in a nursing home
A nurse came in to change her diapers
But all she saw was a horned viper
Suck my beauty
Suck my youth
Post it on your instabooth
Shooting up she ran the hall
Unaware of the doctors drawl
On her way she kidnapped,
Seven children from the ward
Suck your beauty
Suck your youth
Let me guide you to the truth
But before she could prevail
Death came and tipped her scale
Now those kids will never know
The truth of the venerable.
It was the day Ronald died that everything changed. No job, No education. “I will always be by your side; till death do us part”.
But eventually when, death did them part, there was no one left to guard.
Not Ronald, not her disease only the neglect of her pleas.