it's all over now

she doesn't
drink anymore.
or smoke, no more
lines of coke,
or random sex
with guys she
meets in bars.
she's been
to driving
school to get
her points down
and in rehab to
dry out for 30
days with some
rich celebrities
that she can't
talk about. she
has to blow
into a tube
to get her car
started, and can't
even have a teaspoon
of cough syrup
without setting
off the alarm
and locking it up.
she tells me,
between coughs,
about all the fun
she used to have.
the cough is bad,
the kind that rattles
your bones,
sears your lungs,
makes your eyes pop
and water. i used
to be alot of fun,
she repeats, and
winks her baby
blue eyes. lots
and lots of fun.
i play softball
on tuesday nights
now, she tells me,
and rolls her eyes.
she shows me a black
and blue bruise on
her leg that's
going green. i'm
the catcher, she
says, just shoot
me, would you.