runaway suburbia

it’s 4:30 in the morningthe cab ride home is slowerwe talk about teenage summersand childhood in box-like backyards

familiarity precedes panicgreen lights with nowhere to golinen patterns to planes overheadand remnants of what the clock outgrows

apply tape to the temporaryred mirage or contrasting truththe mind is a maze where kids get lostand find themselves in cheaply tailored suits

now it’s 4:30 in the afternoonstreet lights fade with a dull winterat my most unobservant is when I wonderhow did you let adulthood get the best of you?

 Yours Creatively,Jaclyn Sanscartier, Online ContributorImage: Author's own