This evening she hated me deeply
She had made the choice
To have a really bad day
Because I was not there
They stayed at home all day
Because of the rain and the total inability
To take the bus
Maybe I deserved it
Defining me as a small man
Deserving to die in a snowpack
She spat on me while my daughter
Who sat in my lap
No inhibitions at all
How bad I was
I needed psychiatric help
And then as always
Like a hand that turned
She was so sad, her colleague
Had not done enough
I put my daughter to sleep
Waiting for the next act
Of the bipolar drama
