Sweet 16 was when I found myself roomed in Cerritos psych ward,
2 other girls roomed with me,
One kinda like me,
I still have a piece of her converse sneaker logo as a suvenir of my teenage years,
The other girl was a beautiful girl,
Who cried everyday,
And slattered makeup before going to bed,
A beautiful girl with a stain in her smile,
And a **** to her ego,
I sat in this room and saw many come and go,
I'm still stuck here....
With a suicidal mind a flow,
Self esteem sunk low,
Taste for life gone bland,
Took this hand full of pills,
Hope to sleep at last... FOREVER.
Didn't happen,
I'm getting stuck with needles on a daily,
Monitored my food intake on a daily,
Anorexia nervosa won't let me,
But the girl at Cerritos psych,
She still my roomie and others are gone....
Then back,
Then gone again,
The pretty girl at Cerritos psych,
With big eyes, full lips and gorgeous brunette hair,
She's still stuck in Cerritos psych,
*** daddy told her that she's ugly and she's worthless only has a use for one thing,
And to this day I wonder if she ever saw her reflection??
Has she finally seen beauty within?
Or is she still stuck in Cerritos psych ward

Been thinking a lot about Jim today.
Miss him bad, he slipped away.
Cerritos autos had it when all is said and done.
He is my hero, but not the only one.

Know what I mean?

My days as a newspaper boy
in Los Angeles County
With an unkempt beard
and long hair,
Lasted about as long as I expected

I looked awfully sketchy at 3 am roaming the streets of Norwalk and Downey,
or maybe,
I fit in well with the late night diner crowd of the area.
There wasn’t much money left to be made, mostly immigrants and parents needing a third job to pay the rising area rent are here.
The only ones left to throw papers to are aging Asian parents who live vicariously through their children.
And they’re dying off fast.

Getting back at 5 am
and waking the house,
back up at nine to take you to work.
Up the 105
to the 605
We pass through Bellflower
and coast to your theater in Cerritos.
No coffee
Yet
Waits on the stereo
The windows are down
no AC
Your feet are on the dash
You’re nursing a Gatorade
to cure this morning’s hangover.
I am at ease.

You don’t remember moments like these until there’s two hours left in your shift and your boss reminds you he needs those reports.
With a clean shaven face and short hair.
This has lasted longer than I expected.