October 18, 2018
It reeks of rotting here.
Of wet cement and Dr. Pepper
And there is puke on the floor
I slipped on it too many times to count
And now it’s all dried up.
But the blood is still slippery
the pee and feces, as disgusting as it is
That is, the smell of my mind…
Of the loving home i grew up in…
January 2, 2019
The air is cold and crisp
My jacket is all worn out. Yet,
I’m patiently waiting here, outside.
I’m sitting on wet stairs.
It keeps pouring, and I keep crying.
And ambulances keep coming. But,
I didn’t bring an umbrella.