Suburbia

'Suburbia shines like sweat on you,’

he sneered. ‘Your Daddy
is a middle manager. You look the part
but you are petty bourgeois to your core.
We’re through.’

He walked.

I sighed.

I didn’t say, ‘the chip upon your shoulder
bleeds. You’re on a path
to self-destruct and I
cannot
save
you.’

© Gill Dunstan
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