For Yia Yia & Pappou
It should be known that these words aren’t mine, they’re borrowed from the one speaking them.
Somewhere between I’m alright and I feel like shit;
When you don’t even fit in with both the no-goods and the too-goods.
The mental battles of whether I’m doing too much or too little; to do what they do or stay on my own.
Mobs came this way last night,
Looted their way into our livelihood-our lives.
The air out here is choking; life here — most insipid.
The eeriest of thoughts are inevitable as you walk these streets.