The flavor of my youth was skateboards and punk rock heavy metal and mischief walking through Cary town with pockets full of change and crushed singles sodas in hand and skateboards under the other arm in the gated community we lived in we would find the houses where we knew the owners were away on vacation and we took to the stairs on four wheels to glide through the air like arrows shot from some towering bow made of concrete and asphalt and we went to shows in the city dressed in the armor of wristbands, ripped jeans, and faded band shirts drunk on our parents’ beer and skunk **** drunk on the promise of a night open to any footfall we chose and we jumped up and down in mosh pits just trying to feel anything real anything which tasted like living we stalked from house to house cloaked in the witching hour and pillaged our knick knacks from the garages of neighbors we never knew padded fingertips pressing against doorbells 1...2...3… now run we didn’t have time for school or the teachers trying to bring us down but we always had time to trek through the woods with a bowl smoking **** until we got to the mall where we ******* around until mall security chased us out we did not always make the greatest decisions but I am **** glad I made them