She offered a weak smile, but nobody wanted it. Advertisements
As she walks, she drags her fingertips across me, like she can fix me.
Dedicated to Maggie, who misses her too. ☁ I miss Genuine. I miss the way her hair sparkles like sweat, like she’s hard work.
Dedicated to Reina, for reminding me what a rose is. The flowers were dying, but she thought they were beautiful anyway. She loved the way the sun touched them, the yellow stems that shone through the plastic cup she put them in. She’d stolen the flowers. She’d stolen them from somebody’s front yard as she […]
Dedicated to my godmother and the train she rides. She gets in the car. Breathes. Sits down. She’s done this before. The night is unraveling above her, a thick wool blanket, and bright lights beam out from the moth-eaten holes. Stars are mistakes. She takes the keys out of her pocket and they stab her […]
Some explanations that may be in order. If you’re feeling bored, check out my work over on the Chai tab.
The Kids On The Street have been around longer than you have, and will exist longer than you ever will. They change, but they never leave. That’s how it works. When your mother was a teenager, they were all pale. Neat little slices of white bread straight out of the package, with eyes like blueberries […]