HOME IS WHERE THE BUGS ARE ! ᵖᵒᵉᵗʳʸ

greater than thou

in my most vulnerable years i grew up surrounded by new construction and housing developments that erased the abandoned greenhouses in the field where i learned how to live.

nowadays my mother thinks that i hate her, but i promise her i don't. i hate the hate she has, and the weight she feels tied down by, but i don't hate her. even if the love feels thin.

one of these days my mind will explode, and the remnants will be lilacs, and if i could put them in a bouquet, the ribbon would be blue.

i wish these neighborhoods were older, the houses more like homes, the supermarts more like parks, the sunset less smoke and more sapphire. i fear the day that i am the oldest thing in my zipcode, when even the dirt is a generation younger.

i have seen better sides of the world that aren't laden with scarred pavement and idle teens. i have seen better lives lived and have wondered when i will have my sun.

i never went into the greenhouses, but there was light there. the panes were cracked by storm and flood and the weeds around were overgrown. but i always cared for the way the plants had burst through the glass.

the way the roses lived on.