flecks of charisma

back to the grind

i step up
each stair
with precision
the odour of the vehicle's
interior envelopes my body
smell of sweat
smell of pb&j
smell of desperation
i feel as if i stare each person
in the eye for at least a second
as i walk down the narrow path
i set my bag down
and then
i sit
i sometimes feel my possessions
are worth more than i am
so i treat them with more care
than my own body
oh chemistry notebook
i do not hate your crooked spiral
your ripped page
your bent edge
for you are only a book
you can't fix yourself
i should be able
to fix
myself
shouldn't i?
semi truck passes
i am left in darkness
i become dizzy
not sure why
bus driver man
drive me through city streets
let me dance in the aisle
i want to be reckless