It smells,
like incence,
like the coffe bar,
the one they shut down,
because it was run by homosexuals,
smells like Hot Topic,
another store
trying to sell the youth of America
the idea,
that they can be individuals,
just like every one else.
It is empty now,
but that will change soon,
as ink hits the pages,
fillling it with words,
and a weight
intangible to all but me.
To every one else
it is scriblings,
to me
it is a part of my life.

12/30/2001

Posted on 12/30/2001
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