Bonnie & Clyde Vandals
2017-04-02, 1:16 a.m.

Homesick tonight. Can't separate my love of all the secret spaces i knew and the loves i knew when i was there. Can't separate my love from disillusionment. Wishing i could hear your voice again when i'm feeling frozen. Wishing i could rescue you and you not notice it was me needing help again. That was a luxury. All of these moments hanging on an cobweb string.

Sadness amplified from an MS flare, steroids called in from a place I don't belong. The influx of transplants in the city changed it and I don't recognize it or myself in it's context. I really don't belong here either. They still subscribe to Jim Crow etiquette and I'm the wrong color.

I see empty walls and bleakness. I need a night time vandal who loves spray paint and will be my getaway driver. I get dizzy when I paint, thrust deep in a luscious dark cocoon of fumes.

I feel restless and too sick to move. Ghost writing from bed, wishing I had a coffee soda. We could've been the bonnie and clyde of vandals but you didn't have the vision to continue. You were too scared all the time. But not scared of hurting me. And I have to forgive you, even on nights like these. I hope that the karma you got helped you learn everything I tried to say. From my mouth to god's ears.