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.

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

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

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.

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

there are lighting bugs dying atop my fridge
and shoes i don’t recognize by the door
the other day my sister looked through me as one looks through air
and so i pause
and try to rewind
to pinpoint when i became the stranger mom let’s into the living room

i am standing in the fountain of eternal youth
and i have never felt more like me in my entire life
this 18 year grown body seems to pair well with the mine of an oldest child grown too soon
man i am standing in this eternity finally grasping what it is to be youthful to cater to my inner child
gone are days spent wondering where i might end up once i brave the world on my own
i am now my own and the world is mine to wander