Mama gave me all of my
stubborn strength
and jealousies,
my hurry-up,
my alibies—
she’d lift her gospel
hands with me.

Jesus never came in clear,
the scripture scraped
into her palms,
those panicked prayers
he couldn’t hear,
but her persistence
carried on.

She taught me what the value is
of never hedging
any bets—
when life is short,
you go all in—

my dad though, he knew
when to quit.

Under the mountains
it smelled of snow,
and I brushed summer's leafy retreat off the hood of my car
in swathes of yellow and red.

I drove for two hours the other day
hungover and heartsore
because of beer and veins still filled with concrete  
to soothe the weight I feel with the sounds of the sea.

An hour from my town
is the furthest point I could be from the ocean.
Under the mountains,
their shaky doubles ripple in the lake,
in of itself a shaky reflection of the sea.
There's a push and pull woven in my bones
tied to the tides and the waves I crave.

Past didn’t last
          Spell
               Cast
                        Super fast
Hell
       Real
               Can you feel
  Last meal
                 Sealed deal

Well...first I'd probably pay off all my student loans

And with the rest of the $10, i don't know.....

Chipotle or taco bell maybe?