Stored Dolls
We lived in our world of
dolls and jump rope,
Collected bugs and each
other’s tears,
Rubbed alcohol on ripped
skin in the absence of parents.
Said our prayers
together to keep
the boogie man away.
Our dolls now sit in two
different closets,
They’re purpose has long
been lost
To the day the door
slammed,
And to the excuse of too
many miles between us.
Alone in the dark they
long for the days of jump rope.
Sitting in the same
place with half-opened eyes and a tilted face,
I decide to pack her
wrapped in my humility.
I will send her to play
miles away.
Meanwhile, I’ll sit in
this closet waiting
She will come in a box
packed with a jump rope.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
L.A Traffic
Another day stuck in L.A
traffic.
Wasting away in a
six-windowed box,
Alone with my thoughts
with 5 mph of time.
My habitual numbness
wears off;
Rotten routine’s running
my life
Drive to my copy, paste,
print job.
Drive to my lecture,
demanding, better-stay-alert class.
Drive to 6 hours of homework,
sneak in a bite, and sleep, house.
Wake up to the
repetitive snoozing alarm.
My habitual numbness
wears off;
Alone with my thoughts
with 5 mph of time.
Wasting away in a
six-windowed box.
Another day stuck like
L.A traffic.
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