Somebody

Somebody

Play me she says
or leave.
She needs a drink,
a cigarette,
another platinum pill.
Friends tell her—
Get a grip.
What would they know?
About the scraps
in her head,
the children
she cannot keep.
From the shadows
on the wall
above her bed
faces grunt steam,
talk nonsense,
she tries to trigger a response
as she wipes a wisp of hair
from her face.
She never sleeps, and she
has forgotten her name.