Does she use us or do we use her
in this messy mishap
we mistake for Love
or lost or both
she has spent her
life trickling up
like a salmon jumping up waterfalls
to get to that place
where they spawn
she acts as if she
controls it all
even us when we --
this collection of
people who should
know better as peers
or bosses or even lovers
making use of her and
then blaming her for using us
it's no wonder she wakes with a monkey brain
each pre-dawn, confused by it all
not getting what she thinks she deserves
in exchange for what she puts out
a repeated pattern repeated even now
in a place where she ought to believe
she has made it
used and misused by
who knows who
like a sangria made
with sour fruit
we all drink, get drunk on
feel bitter about
when we ought
to be appreciate what
she has given us
and how we ought to
have given back
anything she wants and needs
the perfect trade off
it's only fair
