I decided to file for emotional bankruptcy.
I filled out the necessary paperwork.
The lawyer laughed at me, laughed twice in fact.
He says he claims his laughter under Chapter 13,
pays a monthly fee, two fees in fact.
He laughs twice a month and used both on me.
“You don’t belong here, Mr. Pappas,
You’ve got time and spirit, not necessarily in that order.
Bankruptcy’s for the old hopeless, the young heartless,
People who need toilet paper to clean their souls,
People who’ve been stepped on, stepped in, laughed around, drifted under,
people who can look at a smiling face and only feel envy,
who look at two people holding hands and only see dirty nails.”
He grinned. A big grin. He wiped away a tear that wasn’t there.
He said if he could laugh again he would.
I signed the papers. I paid to keep my memories...
two blue eyes and three short words.
I didn’t want to forget what got me here.