the spring break feeling

The weather never changes
in Los Angeles
But there is definitely something in the air.

I stare into my electronic abyss
waiting for something, someone
to give me a buzz.
Where has the time gone?
Why does it move so slowly in days
and yet so quickly in years?

I am pressing
to leave an imprint on the world
But all I have left is an imprint on my couch.

Macy Gray keeps telling me to
get up
get out
and do something
but she doesn’t know how much I need this vacation.

We ask when
We ask how long
We wait for answers to questions
that were meant to be rhetorical
We build prisons
and plaster the walls with images of our dreams
We sing freedom songs as we plot our escape to chase them.
When will I be free?
How long until my dreams come true?

The people never change
in Los Angeles
But there is definitely something in the air.

I feel the hand on my shoulder
The poke of the finger
The heat from the breath
Wake up they say.
It is a new day.

We see you they say.
For the first time
we actually see you.

And more than that

They want to touch my hair
To drink vodka cranberries
To listen to jokes
to come back for more

They want me to give them a piece of myself
A piece that I have only recently discovered was beautiful.

But they want me to polish it
to shine it up real pretty
a little light upon a tall and mediocre hill
That want me to treat it like it’s expensive

To own it – not that I have a gift
but that I am gifted.

They want me to stop wearing prison clothes.
You can sing your songs they say
but hurry the day when they become ironic.

They want me to see them back
to look them in the eyes

They want me to not be so pressed.

But they do not know how much I need this vacation.

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