Half a shot of limonada for every drop of him I have to swallow today. I take my limonada in the early mornings before the pigeons on the sidewalk are awake to call me a whore.
The birds don’t know that it’s a habit. They don’t know me at all.
I take my limonada like the other kids take their espresso.
swirling the acid in my mouth and holding it in for twenty minutes
Until I can taste no more. My taste buds are dead.
Dissolving teeth and burning gums and
my tongue is numb, but I don’t care. I want my taste buds dead.
That’s what I want. My limonada is sweet at first, then it hurts and then it
tastes like nothing. I play hide and seek with the mirror
in the third floor bathroom
and I always lose, but I don’t care. The world is turning black and white — but is it Coke or Coke? The pigeons don’t care.
All I know is that I won’t taste anything today
at office hours if I take my limonada. I won’t taste him.
I’ve got my limonada,
and I don’t need anything else. I love my limonada,
and he doesn’t know I have my limonada
He doesn’t know I have my limonada.
I order my limonada in the early mornings before the pigeons on the sidewalk are awake to call me a whore.
The lady at the breakfast cart is so kind, she’s so kind
She reminds me of my Ma when she smiles at me.
She calls me hijo, mi hijo, mi hijo. She calls me her son.
On Fridays, she doesn’t charge me anything,
and sometimes, she even offers me a bagel, but I say no with a smile.
Help me. No, don’t help me. Help me, please. No, I’m good.
All I want is the limonada, all I care about is the limonada.
All I need is the limonada, no bagels or cream cheese or espresso.
I love the lady at the cart because
she gives me my limonada,
Limonada,
Limonada. $2.99. She gives me limonada so I won’t have
to taste anything. So I won’t have to taste him. Limonada,
Limonada,
Limonada. I love the lady who gives me my limonada.
I think I’m nice to her. I try to be kind when I speak. I really do. I try. I try. I really do try. Don’t you know that I try to be nice to everyone?
The pigeons don’t know that I’m trying. Nobody thinks that I am trying.
Limonada was the first word I learned how
to pronounce in Spanish. I practice saying it in the early mornings before the pigeons on the sidewalk are awake to call me a whore.
It’s the only word
I’m allowed to say. I’m not allowed to say anything else.
I’m only allowed to swallow. I’m only allowed to swallow.
Swallow it all, open my mouth to swallow, Ah Ah Ah,
Swallow, swallow, swallow it all in my mouth,
and lick the rest off of him. I check my posture.
This bullet doesn’t taste like metal, but it can still break my teeth. It tastes like him.
But at least I have my limonada,
Limonada, Ah Ah Ah
Limonada
I drank limonada today. I already drank my limonada today, and I dissolved my teeth with acid
before he can break them. Bitch doesn’t know I took my limonada.
Good boys don’t say the word bitch.
I was a good boy. My grandparents used to tell me to take limonada
for my Vitamin C — and I’m finally listening. It’s not working.
I’m finally listening today. It’s not working. Why isn’t it working? I’m still a good boy, right?
I’m a good boy. I hold limonada in my mouth
so I don’t have to tell anybody anything.
I want them to think I’m a good boy.
Everybody needs to know that I’m a good boy.
Good boys go to school. Good boys know how to talk to the pigeons
because they are lonely. People always told me that
good boys need to have class — we keep our heads up and our voices low — and
good boys go to class. His touch is cold, but mine
is colder. I want to knock a fucker out, but the only person I’ve beaten the shit out of is myself.
Mama told me to never fight — but at home,
I’m fighting myself and this civil war is getting out of hand. I need help. I needed help,
and nobody came to save me.
Nobody came to save me.
Nobody came to save me, and nobody is coming
to save me. I need help, I need help, I needed help, and nobody came to save me. That’s okay, though.
I have my limonada. I have limonada, and everything is going to be
Alright, as long as I have my
Limonada.
Limonada, Limonada, Limonada,
Acid in my mouth. Sour in my mouth. Swirl it in my mouth, gargle it, hold it in for twenty minutes
Until I can taste no more.
Dissolving teeth and burning gums and dying taste buds and
My tongue is numb, but I don’t care. The world is turning black and white —but is it
Coke or Coke? The pigeons don’t care.
I don’t care.
That’s what I want. That’s how I win.
I don’t let him win. I don’t taste anything.
I take my limonada so he doesn’t win.
La regular, por favor. Gracias señora.
Nos vemos mañana.
See you tomorrow for my limonada,
It’s only $2.99, but that’s far more than what I was worth.
And I’ll see you tomorrow after I’ve taken my limonada,