Shelter Worker's Goodbye. - Painted Thin

It’s the end of the day shleter worker’s goodbye: will

I see you again?

For every cat that’s put down,

every young child’s life as the return with mom to

a bad situation.

I was not ready for this.

In that emptied out feeling your third cup of coffee

gives there’s a lie that the sum of your underpaid

work is a freezer full of bodies of this perfect purple

welcome-home bruise.

This steady shelling would crack

anyone.

This steady shelling would crack anyone.

Close the door.

Let’s lie on the ice-warm tile and

forget why we’re here.

This steady shelling woudl crack

anyone.

I hope they don’t hit the silence before my

shift is done.

This brand of solace comes on blindly,

like a star-eyed loveless kiss.

There’s a private addiction that’s kept as a crutch

in the heart of every single last one fo us.

I long for the day wheneach breath has another waiting

as backup.

I long for the day when the door locks for

good and we can climb our of this war-torn trench.