7242017

"7242017" we fought last night, her and I, then we bumped. we got half way and then had to stop. the rest of her period was lashing out and it chose me to do it. “well, we’ll have to wait until tomorrow,” I told her, “everything should be fine then.” after that we cleaned up and attempted to sleep. that was when the boy came in and told us about his day at work. he got ready after the conversation and left. we crashed out and woke up only to fight again. last night it was about her, this morning it was about me. she showered. “there’s five dollars in my wallet. take that and get some cigarettes on your way out.” she said, “I was planning on stopping to get us some packs anyway. answer your phone when I call you so you can come out to get them.” she left then she returned with my smokes and a soda. “are you coming back or staying at your place?” I asked her. “I’ll let you know,” she replied. I returned to my place and sat on my couch, listening to the quiet I was now in. I lit up a smoke and got the call from my attorney. “Eddie, your case is dismissed. it’s gone and it won’t come back.” I sat there, remembering a year ago, wondering where I’d be when I heard this. little did I know I would’ve heard it after two fights, a soda and a pack of smokes. they say the little things aren’t important, that we must disregard them and focus on all that is bigger. if that’s true, why did I write an entire poem about the fights, the smokes and a soda, when I got the call that I was no longer a criminal? By: Chicano Eddie 7242017