Thirty-One Little Triggers
Kitchen table’s got a cheap paper calendar taped down flat
edges curled like it’s been through war
Each square lined in red pen notes
which wolf comes knocking at which door
Rent on the first, light bill third
phone on the fifth if I don’t pay
By the time I hit the middle of the month I’m already out of play.
Payday loan sign on the corner blinks at me like it knows my face
“Fast cash, no judgment, ” yeah
just interest sharp enough to cut
I walk in with my pay stub
last week’s sweat still on my shirt
Trade two weeks of breathing room for six months extra hurt.
I’m living off payday loans with a calendar aimed right at my head
Every box another barrel, every due date breathing lead
Circle all my Fridays like they’re some kind of rescue squad
Then watch the numbers line up on the wall like I’m on trial with God.
They hand me folded bills with a smile that doesn’t touch their eyes
Paperwork thick as a winter coat stuffed full of hidden knives
I sign away next paycheck, and the one behind it too
Just to keep the fridge from humming emptiness at two.
On the fridge
there’s a magnet from a pizza place we can’t afford
Kids ask for delivery while I boil noodles like a last resort
I count out what’s left in my pocket
coins with other people’s dirt
Check the bank app on my phone and feel my chest twist and hurt.
I’m living off payday loans with a calendar aimed right at my head
Every square a countdown where some basic need goes dead
I borrow from tomorrow just to crawl through one more night
Then wake up pinned to thirty-one more circles picked for fight.
There’s another life where I don’t know every due date by the hour
Where the mail slot doesn’t spit out threats wearing polite language and power
But here it’s all “final notice” dressed up in thin white lies
And a shop on the corner selling ropes as if they’re ties.
Sunday morning
I spread the bills out like a deck I never chose
Shuffle water, rent, and groceries
see which one this month will lose
Mark a star on the calendar when I manage not to borrow
Feels like winning a war just to steal one clean tomorrow.
But the car needs brakes and the kid needs shoes and the clinic wants its cut
So I find myself back under that flickering sign with my jaw clenched shut
“Back so soon, ” the clerk says
tapping keys with painted nails
Every click another tally in a row of private fails.
I’m living off payday loans with a calendar aimed right at my head
Each red circle waiting like it wants me good and bled
I bleed out in tiny payments, twenty here, fifty there
Buying time at triple price from people who don’t care.
One day I’m gonna walk past that window without feeling pulled inside
Buy a new blank calendar where the days aren’t just where debts collide
Till then I keep crossing out each square with a shaky
stubborn hand, Still here, still not erased
in a month that never goes as planned.