The Traveler

page (4)

Your Best Friends Journal

Love, Mom

The Traveler,

My forked tongue forked and shuffled up, fierce were my irises. Pulled back was my hair. The atmosphere’s as noon, high noon, dead moonlight.  Probably shoulda coulda cussed the mans old ass out but I didn’t, instead I smirked, sardonically, playing the proper acting role as gas station clerk. Dope hat college boy, school boy to be extremely personal.

You would know right, uttered my cheekbones.

And under my teeth I thought,

That biggot ass zealot ass

self-righteous ass fuck, he doesn’t even know a god damn thing, If I didn’t need this horseshit job, I would have caught his dwindling old ass in the parking lot. Real quick mother fucker real quick, I was hot for crime, I was hot on time.

Anyway that was that and this is this.