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xavier thomas Jan 2022
-someone pray for my family to start moving forward.
-past regrets has my family still walking backwards.
-no gatherings, reunions pass due, no nothin’
-stay in contact mainly on Facebook or group texts.

-I never wanted this
-members can’t get past previous trauma that’s keeping them ******.
-most mindset are like “I don’t rock nor want to bother them.”
-man F**k that -ish
-let’s stick together, we still have time to heal over our egos,
stop trying to quit.

-family wishing to redo their prime past for a better paradise in mind.
-living now is the “fear.”
-since nobody wants to say it, I’ll express this  overbearing feelings.
-the fact my grandma still cooped up in the house feeling worthless
is dangerous cause she feels left out or no one wants to visit her due to “un-build relationships”.
-feeling unfit.

-most members from the Chi-Town calling me like I’m the man now.
-because they can’t get along nor grow together, so i’m their problem solver now.
-sad seeing the family drown, so I pick the pen up to write the words down.
-sometimes it’s embarrassing writing these words down
-but someone has to expose these generational curse truths now.
I’m just a Chicago kid
jaden Nov 2021
i wish you good luck and a cup of tea
and maybe that you’d think of me
in the morning between that chicago breeze
you’ve become so fond of.
i wish you warmth and a warm pastry
in hopes that you stay sweet after 9am classes
and glasses that refuse to sit still on your nose.
i wish you love and a bowl of soup
so that you’d give me the inside scoop
on the perils of higher education and
one of those end of the day smiles.
but for now i wish you rest and glass of milk.
i will be taking everyone to breakfast
jaden Nov 2021
air at a standstill
sounds echoing
and breathing still as
melancholy brushes my shoulders and settles inside my chest
this is someone else’s life
my life is
the stench of marijuana on the weekends
we’re sitting closer than needed on massive couches
and each smiles is a rush
because i’m these moments there’s just us and
happiness has made its home in our flesh
you know when you write love poems about a made up person
jaden Nov 2021
i’m unplugging the month old box fan for the first time since i moved in
september 22nd the first day of fall and im excited i was made for the slight breeze of the morning and the warmth right before the setting sun
but like i said i’m unplugging the month old box fan since i took it out of its box when i moved into mine
august 29th a midwestern summers peak when i truck back into the alley of a save a lot and the empty room i moved into
it doesn’t really matter though cause it’s two in the morning of the morning after i shoved the first box fan i ever bought myself under the last bed my mother would ever force upon me and i’m getting upset about the rate at which the world keeps turning
so maybe i’m sad because i haven’t seen my friends since i saw my broken box fan i had for four high school summers and didn’t have to purchase with my own barista money and i miss the way we’d understand the nonsense and sit too close together
but it doesn’t matter cause yesterday way september 22nd. the first day of fall and i was excited and i am excited because i’m unplugging that month old box fan that drowns the quiet in an empty room alone at 2 in the morning
jaden Nov 2021
sitting at the edge of the water where the moonlight floats across an unstable surface. tonight we’re all glowing black, and blue, and maybe purple too just sitting at the edge of teal colored turbulence and rusted barriers.
bass pumping through the concrete to the patter of wind borne waves. forces beyond our grasp become visible on these last summer nights and we have our sights set on becoming someone in this city.
there’s a boat sailing across this sea and there’s me in the middle of you and maybe i can understand why they say to stop and smell the roses red and the see the ocean blue as we sit on the edge of the water: moonlight just skimming the surface.
this literally was such a gorgeous night and i felt so deeply
jaden Nov 2021
two red pills to cure a cold and the chill of fall
wading through the apartment
pants go on one leg at a time and it’s easier if you ignore the jeans that mean you have a shift later
two slices of toast like grandma used to make and maybe some tea with too much sugar
down three flights of stairs to go see the train you take leave the station above you
Henry Jan 2021
‘I ain’t tired!’ yells the homeless, old man begging for change
On the green line station me and my friends get off at to buy coffee
He turns and looks at us
‘I ain’t tired!’ yells the toothless, old man on that cold winter night
As we preemptively pull out our phones and look down at the ground
A defense mechanism
‘I ain’t tired!’ yells the hobbling, old man as we pass him by
Without making eye contact or even a sympathetic nod
If only I had cash on me
‘I ain’t tired!’ repeats the mentally ill, old man while we descend
The stairs down onto the pavement and into Chinatown
The snow continues falling
‘I ain’t tired!’ echoes the starving, old man
His voice ringing in my ears long since we’d left ear shot
The only time I had the courage to glance at him
He was a mess of wires and bone and cloth and paint and white hair
Older than the city I had just begun to explore and call home
Permanently on that train station yelling
‘I ain’t tired!’
‘I ain’t tired!’
‘I ain’t tired!’
Elise Jackson Dec 2020
i've met god
he's lying six feet deep
in the rare greens of chicago
where the trees make up for the emptiness
the loss
the silence

the grass seems so frightening for its purpose
but yet so full and comforting
i don't blame the slumber

i blame the normality of it all
i cannot keep swallowing grief and pretending it doesn't hurt me
Z Dec 2020
Already buckled in the backseat
I’d want to come to the grocery
And while you’d push the basket
I followed after so closely

We dug up weeds and planted poppies
Gold and vermillion
And I remember I felt my heart drop
When you said you can’t be friends with your children

I remember thinking
If you can’t accept me then how will I accept myself
you taught me everything
If you can’t accept me how will I accept myself?

And I’m not gonna get my confirmation
But I really want to make you proud
I know it’s not what you expected
It’s harder to say some things out loud

I didn’t get the chance to tell you
She told you before I could say a word
And then I didn’t want to talk about it
I ran away, I lost my nerve

You gave me all the space I wanted
That was four years ago
until it seemed like you’d forgotten
Until I moved to Chicago

And I was thinking
If you can’t accept me then how will I accept myself
You taught me everything  
If you can’t accept me how will I accept myself?

And I just want to feel accepted
But I really want to make you proud
I know I’m not what you expected
It’s harder to say some things out loud
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