This week in mexico

this week in mexico i got reminded of a boy, 13, and to afriad to go oudside because he didnt speak the language and thaught his face looked kinda weird
to the smell of french toasts after a long day at school of wondering if the girls liked him or not, to not knowing what beers tasted like and fresh lungs with underdeveloped muscles
to watter that just tasted slighly of and an airconditioner set so high that it reminded him of home
and to the dog whos getting so old that he outlifed the man that got him in the first place
there used to be months where he smelled like dog and the dog smelled like him
the same dog who would hide himself in thorn bushes untill you where certain youd never see him again, only to show up hours laters when your just about to cry
and now looking back at it, it might have been weird that those where thaught that cape up as i was shoveling dirt out channel, hoping my house and dreams wouldnt flood along with it
spending my time with a stranger in the make shift bunker singing songs with weed crusted fingertips and belies full in a way that i dont think theve been sinsed i arived in this country not knowing if the huricane would or would not hit us
i think then i found a new friend
and just mabey just mabey sometimes we also need to hide areselfs away in the rain where nobody can find us nomater how much are friends and family call out to us only crawl out at just the right time
cause no matter how bad tomorow might be i know that once il be back home hell be there waiting for me
total huricanes damage :
2 cups
a lightbulp
and a plate
all dropped from being to stoned