Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Scared

I don’t know who to believe in this whole thing.
The investment banker,
the insurance salesman,
or the senior caretaker who has “never stolen in her life.”
It all feels too much for me,
like trying to remember how many pills my mother takes each morning
or that I have to carry valium in my purse at all times for my father,
or that I live every day now without seeing Trouble’s face.
Everyone I speak to has a different angle,
agenda,
desire,
and it all comes down to money.
I feel like a very small animal in a room full of wolves.
My sister would trust anyone,
and gladly give out any information,
but I am not like that.
I am suspicious when someone starts asking me about income
and address,
and wants to know how much money there is.
I am scared of the market
and the way things rise and fall without reason.
It is as if we are all being manipulated.
One minute our country is in a depression,
and the next minute our President is on t.v. speaking about our resilience
and how strong we are.
Nothing makes sense and I feel like there is no where to turn.
There is a hand waiting to grab me,
to feel me up,
to take me.
I am scared.