Shelled Out

Exasperation has made a laugh track
of my attraction to an easy life.
But looking back
only makes me crack a smile
at all the crap I wracked my brain for,
[she was really wrecked by pain more]
to prove the room I’d taken up worthwhile.
“Wasted space”
was a name I learned to make the most of,
and even wag my tail to, in time.
Because, how’s a kid meant to take
love and hate,
on what once was an empty plate,
and differentiate?
Fate and the familiar felt
more like a destined hell
that I shelled out a sane mind,
and too much “me” time,
to forever dwell in.