The Kleptomaniac

first time that brought the
bliss,
must’ve been when with her/his
best friend, in some mall in the
middle of ****ing
nowhere---
little things when s/he was young &
was sick of asking for money 
from the parental figures,
sick of seeing others with things
that s/he couldn’t have,
sick of going to school &
knowing that because of the world
s/he lived in,
that this would be the way it would
always be---
stuffing her pockets with
nothings, but each little successfully
stolen thing,
brought a new sense of strength,
a way to get away 
by getting away with it &
what society deems a
“criminal” was born---
funny how the “sickness”
becomes a “criminal act,”
once material possessions are
included in the whole
mind****---
soon, s/he needed more &
was getting better,
going into changing rooms with
one outfit & coming out with
a different pair of shorts, a different
shirt &
walking right out into the sunset---
took it smart, swore to him/herself
that s/he’d not take anything that
s/he wouldn’t have thought about buying,
leaving the taking to the rush &
the rush to the escape &
with the escape came power &
with power came perfection.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

Poem

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