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Odin odin@aflx.com, click here
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2nd chances come along once in a while.
I''m Scared
Ever feel like runnin''?
I feel like runnin'' now
Like I used to
It was nothin'' then
To be bad, I mean
You know
Take somthin'' don''t belong to you
Tear up shit
Just to be...
I don''t know
They used to yell at me
"She''ll grow out of it"
You know
But damn
I didn''t want to
It was fun bein'' wild
Once too often I screwed up though
Shoulda kept my mouth shut that time
But he was a mean bastard
He beat that old lady
You know
I showed him
Bit that hand good
He ain''t ever gonna hit anything again with that one
Then they locked me up
Big time
Death Row ain''t no fun
You know
They said it was quick though
You just go to sleep they said
Least that''s what the others said
Those who''d been in and out
Told me stay good enough
Appeal in front of the right person
You get out
Slip up bad enough
You get back in
I was scared
Good guy pleaded my case though
Surprise evidence
Surprise witness
I got lucky
So here I am
That''s way behind me now
They got me turned around
And yeah
I am better in a lot of ways
But
Still got a temper
It slips once in a while
When my kind forgets to keep the old mouth shut
Pisses me off though
I see the mean bastards from a distance usually
But it takes my eye off the ball
And one thing I learned
The past two years
You can''t afford to drop your guard
But I''m okay now
I think
Hey
Here I am
This arranged marriage...
Kinda
I want it to work out
But hell
I''m expected to be all fine and good
You know?
I''m still the bitch
That ran wild just two years ago
Got myself locked up
Beat death
Got lucky
Got fixed
Learned what I had to learn
And here I am
I meet him in twenty
They got me all gussied up
For the special day
Hate this perfumed shit
They thought I should wear
Think he cares
C''mon
He lived through five deployments
Iraq couldn''t kill him
Afghans failed
Some brainwashed kid with a vest tripped his squad up
Shit
And here I am whinin''
I got responsibilities now
Gotta job to do
There he comes
They said he hated the white stick
Always tripped him up
At the curbs and gratings
Well
Now he''s got me
All harnessed up
Ready to be his bitch
A new kind of bitch though
Damn
Look at his medals
Oh jeez
He''s kneelin'' now
This is where he says somethin'' like...
There I go again
I''m whimpering like a pup
I''m past that
I''m the man bitch now
And
And...
A dog ain''t supposed to cry
I''m scared
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Now for reality. Talked to that girl this morning. She wants me to write her biography. It's quite a story. Ran away from a mean father as a teenager after having a son– left him to her mother– and was on the street. Gang raped more than once, she shot and “accidentally” killed a guy that raped her and served six years. She's married about six times–twice to one guy–and tried every drug including crack cocaine. She has a temper, and recently hit her last husband in the head with a pliers she used to start her car with and got two years mandatory for assault with a deadly weapon. She's out and I got her a job. She's married (by job) to a old guy with dementia for five days a week, twelve hours a day, and happy to be working and living alone in an apartment I helped her get.
She talks just like your story. Perhaps I should write hers. Seems like there's a lot more.
Ron