Power
Treasured ticket in hand, sweat beads slid down her palm,
tense creases camped out where her mouth was drawn.
It was about to storm. Reflexively refreshing the browser,
pupils fixed to the monitor, anxiety amped up around her.
The mood soured. Another failure…..another fucking loss,
the crumpled paper joined the others piled against the wall.
Then came withdrawal until, slowly, the compulsion rose,
seizing her few remaining dollars, she hit the open road.
Approaching 7 Eleven, the numbers navigated her mind,
fifty seven...twenty two...forty...fifteen...one...sixty nine,
and, as if by design, the hole burned deep in her pocket,
so lost in the weeds she couldn't see she needed to stop it.
The repeat process created desperation, the scariest scene
‘cuz despite all she had, nothing compared to the dream.
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Topic - "Everything I Have"
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