I survive off caffeine of sorts. I survive off Bon Iver and Elliott Smith. I survive off minimal money and ****** gas station jobs. Lastly, I survive off of tiny computers and loads of paper.
I hope for a better day. I hope for a home. I hope for a family to call my own. And I hope for a nice house and job in my future.
I live for poetry slams and trauma. I also live for suicide awareness and ****** assault centers. I live for helping the community and getting my **** together.
I hate dogs and I hate people who **** people. I hate people who eat tomatoes like apples. I hate the fact I have enough trauma to last 3 lifetimes, but somedays, I really like I get to speak about my experience. And somedays, I just hate life.
But today? Today I survive off a 24oz cup of coffee. I hope for a family. I live for the knowledge that a better day will come. And I hate my mother.
I am a good poet. I don't need validation, although it is nice.