Black star
Lone star

The loneliest star over Texas
November in Dallas isn't a good time for anyone

Loneliness swings on a branch
It lies in six sheets wrapped around me
It's tucked into the bed I lay in
It floats on the top of my root beer with the foam
and lipstick marks
It hides in the empty water bottles clanking around
on the ground inside my car
It whispers in the dark to me when everyone else is
slumbering safely
It cradles me
It holds a shotgun to my twin brother's head
It grieves at a shorter Thanksgiving dinner
It pulls the trigger
November is a bad time in Dallas
For everyone

Black star
Lone star
The lonelist star over Texas

Barbie Totschek