My Cardboard Balcony

What To Do With A Tarnished Reputation by Belinda Roddie So you've been shamed, blamed, verbally maimed. You've got lipstick stains on your untamed mane, and somehow, you think you're drowning in the long missed rain in this dry-as-fuck state where you smoke the strongest strain. So you pack a suitcase and start a race for a place where no one knows you and you ain't a big disgrace. Now you're floating in a space where your brain's unlaced, spinning in circles in a new world where you'll sew on a new face.

"In breaking news," mumbled Sarah, "I'm a brat. I'm a rude, obnoxious sonnuvagun who bothers everyone I even remotely talk to. I talk on my cellphone in quiet coffee shops and ride my bike on the sidewalk when there's no bike lane. I sometimes lurch into the crosswalk when driving my car because I'm trying to turn right and not get T-boned by some other driver. People think I'm a jerk. And I have to live with that headline."