Skatepark, a poem
Skatepark
My past is the sore on the inside of my lip
that I slick my tongue along,
that when I’m least ready
I gnaw on,
like a fresh stick of chewing gum,
never really gone.
Deeeep from the archives...I wrote this poem on 2/11/2021 and it's one of my favorites. The photos are from even deeper in the archives (November 2016 to be exact). It's late and I found my college hard drive with all of my old writing. It's healthy to cringe at yourself! More archival writing and photography to come.
Xo, Rebs