A quiet kid,
lonely in the rain,
fingers the nickels and pennies
in his pockets, waiting for the bus
to splash around the corner,
so he can get to work.

He lives with a demon of a roommate,
and shares snores with the roaches,
Bathing in the shower of their incontinence.

After college, he lost it and wrecked his mind
in a haze of liquor so foggy it
swallowed the moon for awhile.

He stumbles through pitch black nights
with an ugly soul and redemption on his mind;
The worst kind of late night wanderer.

Coffee and sugar keep him alive--
just like war and famine are the black angel's wives--
bringing him back into this liquid reality.

In the mornings he breathes in this world,
totally sober.

It tastes like sourness
and the milk of ***** entrapped in blue jeans
in 100 degree weather
all day.

It was the worst kind of sobriety.
All the horrors of birth.

He lives many lives:

One for his mother,
where he plants fruitless kisses
on her cheeks.
Little wreaths of future disappointment.

She hugs him so warmly.
It makes him want to suckle his .45.

One for work,
all smiles
and plumb submission.
9-5.
5-2.
12-9.
6-3.
4-12.
And if he's lucky
12-4 on saturdays.

All this in 5 dollar clothes
and a rumplestiltskin attitude;
trying to weave his own ugliness
into truth.

One for his girl,
the one who'd hurl her tongue at Appollo,
puke up her month's sugar intake,
and curl her fingers so tight that she cut the cappillaries,
making a red and white fist like a christmas cinnabon:

If he ever told her who he really was.

His love for her is secret.

One life for himself,
to keep the mirror happy.

This kid.
He's all or nothing.

give me back the days
when you’d press me like a flower
against the wall
and whisper little nothings
so cinnabon sweet
they’d swirl around
my head all day.
when we’d walk
spring streets coated
in magnolia leaves
you, mr. chivalry
curbside, protecting
every milky bone in
my body.
i crave
one more afternoon
tangled in sheets
with you,
fingers tracing
places i want
discovered by you
only.
another beeswax flavored
kiss, to get me through
the solstice
not yet gone,
already missing you.

People always say "Remember when we were kids..." And that's when I always space out, turn my attention to something else & avoid those memories.
Every time I look back to my childhood & my younger days ,I see some child that made my life worse than theirs, made my cuts deeper & now they're an adult trying to befriend me.
My Parents worked hard to put nutrients in my flesh, faith in my soul, & hope in my spirit rather than material on my skin.
Due to my absence of expensive earthly things they were brainwashed to cherish they treated me as if I had different feelings, different joys, different emotions within.
I remember I would hate being early to school because that was free time for privileged kids, free time for them to talk about my free things. My hand me downs and cheap garments from the flee store.
I'm a God loving Christian, and I don't look down on anyone I just think it's ironic how I turned out to be more.
Or is it ironic at all, I think not, karma is God's general and what you put out is what you will receive in the world.
You put out pain you get pain, spread Love and you get love, if you pass on a Cinnabon you can be sure as hell one day at your door there it is, back in full circle, a cinnamon Swirl.
So today as i look back on those kids that put a microscope on my un-athletic abilities, worn down clothing, and lack of attractiveness, I wish them well & greet them with smiles.
They've grown up to be with other kids that saw only the cover of someone and not the person, they've started families with two parents who don't understand the true value of a spirit & I just pray that characteristic isn't passed on to that beautiful child.

"Grateful Pain" -Dash Pinder

The place we stood to take photos
and you shamelessly owned your bright red chappal (slippers)
and I loved it
the place where I loved you
we checked the shades of lipsticks on our hands
love red on your hand and your skin cream on mine
the place where you asked me for a hug
and your mom nearly caught us in the act

This was also the place we shopped for you
where you kissed me inside a cabin in a try room
the same place we had a conversation & cinnabon
while people stared and almost envied you
because of all the love you got from me
where we loved the dazzling blue traditional dress
which was just too expensive
but that didn't stop us from looking

The place where we broke stereotypes
in more ways than one
and I couldn't help but remember how
we both hated shopping
but loved shopping together
how you always picked faster than I did
but i still picked for you
because you liked it better that way

All I could think of were the words
words you had said there then
and I could only ask myself
if you ever meant a single one

"Choose for me"
"Your choice of dress makes my Eid special"
"Kiss me"
"You are my favorite person to shop with"
"Lets do this again soon"
"Thankyou for the beautiful day"
"I love you"

Those words still echo through the walls of that place
and the walls inside my head

echo
Echo
ECHO
LOUD
STOP

I LOVE YOU
YOU SAID THAT
I FCKING LOVE YOU
YOU SAID THAT

STOP
LOUD
ECHO
Echo
echo

All I can think of are the words
you say now

"I don't even love you anymore"
"I didn't miss you"
"I hope you die"
"I don't want a forever with you"
"I can't commit to you anymore"

I am haunted by your ghost
in this city
and I say ghost because you are dead
this person is a shell with no soul
or heart

I am haunted by your ghost
in this city
everything smells of you
and looks like you
and sounds like you

And I am going crazy
in this place
where **we loved

Our hot girl summer rolls on - like lava downhill or male models doing - anything.
We’re in Athens, Georgia, yes, it’s hotter elsewhere - but you can die in the sun - is this really a competition?

Fashionistas and trendsetters are adorning themselves in fluorescent lime green this summer. Making it the must-have statement color for the cool kid's club. The whole aesthetic was inspired by Charli XCX’s lime-green album cover for ‘Brat.’

Now, before you roll your eyes at the state of America, where silly people are bilked by influencers - isn't that what happened in the 60s with ‘flower-power?’ Wasn’t that ‘counterculture’ flagging, where everything from school buses to bikinis were flower adorned, driven by bands like the Beatles and umm.. [fill in the blank]?

So, we tripped (sounded psychedelic) to the mall of Georgia, to shop for unnecessary, lime-green things. Nail polish (which I think eats), beach bags, coverups, Crocs, friendship bracelets (cause we’re 13-year-olds), Cinnabon's - which aren’t technically green but are delicious and the Apple store - because it makes us happy.

I’ve read, or heard it said that “malls are dying.” Not this one, on a weekday mid-morning it was packed. The line for the eighteen-movie-plex looked like Spring Festival (Chinese New Years) at the Beijing airport.

Sadly, it’s time to admit that as 20-year-olds we’ve aged out of the “Clare’s” esthetic. A 12-year-old in line to get her ears pierced, looked at me, while I was looking at friendship bracelets, like I was her grandmother and I felt it - it was real.
.
.
Two songs to go with this:
This Girl's In Love (Live At HMH) by Trijntje Oosterhuis
Riviera Life by Caro Emerald

A poet whose words I so admire
Once turned my compliment around
And said I was his favorite too.
I didn’t have the word for thanks
Quite grand enough for how I felt.
I’ve never been a favorite -
Not in life, or work or even love.
He put a warm place in my heart -
A Cinnabon fresh from the oven -
That perfumes my day each time
I savor those kind words from him.
              ljm