take it all in, hold it close envelop me please i need to be golden this doesn’t need to make sense i have a soul and it needs to be reborn every day or else it dies
Most days I need myths to keep going There is no way to process the demons and stories But I hear voices in my dreams Unrelenting, desperate, and loud I remember “save me” – 2 nights ago Probably my soul caving in on itself Refusing to be silenced Or made to feel mad I hear…
grown men are waiting behind subway turnstiles for kind souls with unlimited metrocards to swipe them home.
unified in this common mo(u)rning.
another fight on 117th and lex approx. ten 13 yr old black teenagers another fight on claremont and 172nd gang initiation? stunned 13 yr old can’t find his knife 911 operator so cool cousin approaches from across the street i hear yelling outside but don’t really want to know type this into my wordpress acct….
these scenes are just too much all dirty blonde straight, shoulder-length hair brown leather boots soft face powder poised, talking quietly watching through bluegreen eyes calmly yet with caution large black woman entire left side of the subway car to herself fluffy, mismatched socks in bowling shoes hair weave all in knots and colorful scrunchies…
i’m tired of all this reality. concrete. soot. worn. sticky subway seats. stressed out people. rib tightness “can you see the bags under my eyes?” asks everyone. get through there’s more later sick resisting waiting