I'm well seasoned, if you couldn't tell.

I like how you know when I'm super happy so you can come in and ruin it.

Maybe all we want is a place to stay.
Perhaps we don't wanna live on streets no more.
Save us from these night demons
Lurking under streetlights,
And disappearing as soon as you see them.
Phone screens shine, remind us of family
And the home we have left behind.
Pennies plunk into our mugs,
Spare change in strangers' pockets.
Have you ever thought about running away,
Abandoning your seemingly imperfect life
And running to the streets where we live?
Well it's a dark world out here;
There's places to hide,
But no place to love
And no place to return.
Save me from living minimally,
My ribs jutting out,
Eyes hallow,
Greasy hair tickling my frozen eyelashes,
Thawing in warm clouds of my own breath.

Huh. I don't even know what I wrote. It all just kinda came out.

Flames dance among the kindling.
Voices carry for yards across the water.
The leaves of the highest branches whisper to each other,
Spinning tales of the ghosts of the forest,
Mattimuro's spirit ever-present,
Crawling through your veins at night,
Carried on the wind in the day.
Horse hooves tattooed in the mud.
Blaring beats of Daft Punk pulse from the infamous speakers.
Sike, legit, totes, are you joking me!?
Syrup cascades down a Cree's stack of golden pancakes,
And a tired bell chimes the end of another activity.

164 days since I have seen my favorite people in the world,
5 days until I see my home's soil again, and
186 days until another legacy begins.