Ever since I came back to this place,
Where street signs and neighborhood parks,
Mark first kisses and an entity of first moments,
I have not been able to be at peace with myself,
Because every time I turn a corner in this hometown we experienced first love in together,
I am reminded of times and events which have been packed into boxes labeled
“Do not open, avoid at all costs,” in my mind.

I don’t want to remember the significance that these places hold anymore,
I don’t want to be constantly reminded of what event happened where,
I can’t be home here,
Being home only makes me long for you,
Which I find the perfect irony in,
Because the only place I have ever truly felt at home was wrapped in your arms,
Parked on the side of this suburban road, looking out over street signs and neighborhood parks,
On hot summer days,
Like today.
(e.m.w)

the racist lesbian
who once called me
an uppity ******
who forgot where I came from

just had a baby
in West Virginia
who will grow up
without a father

or any mother
to support his escape
from a hick-*** town
if he even wanted

so I can't laugh too hard
and I say God Bless
'cause that's what they say
where I was raised

and if I walk around college
calling that white trash
it would only mean
that she was right