I covet cliches.
Watching redundant sitcoms over family dinner with rickety TV trays.
1$ fresh squeezed lemonade stands,
Bike rides with no helmets and cut off shorts revealing scraped knees from hours of picket fence climbing.
Cold showers soothing summers ray’s.
Apple picking at dawn with my dearest friends,
Getting lost in a corn maze.
Love pure and honest like that of which my father gave.
This is a lie sugar coated for diabetics.
My daddy just as messed up as me.
Been dying to live since I was a kid,
Playing on the porch with a 45.
My almond eyes glint like twin switch blades,
As My cheeks become roadways traffic jammed with tears.
In the depths of solitude I sit cold crushing ways penetrate my skin like 14 hollow tips lodged in the barrel of fathers 45.
I tell him,
“Nothing human pours absence into the light regions of our world”
He smiles like only he can,
He tells me I sold my soul
I don’t recall ever having one.
-Tyler Campbell, The Haverford School, Class of 2018