[ P O E ] :: D2 / CB

all except your negatives,
I’ll wear around my neck
like teeth. Evidence
that I have killed.

"Goddamn it, Poet-" 

Lights all green, good to go -- it's half of all she says to me at this point. You can't keep doin this- blah blah, I mean somebody has to, right? We can't just be scared for danger's sake, at this point we know that doesn't work. A boy my age has no right in a rebellion, that's what she says- if anything, eighteens the age of rebellion. Feet kicked up, dirt on my jeans, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to be a mechanic forever but I know I can't. 

Can't be more-

This is what my father died for, that's got to mean something at least. Mother holding my hand and for crimes against the capitol I watched not one but two silver bullets shoot him down. Keys to the garage still in his coat pocket and we got it back in the box he came in, my mother didn't cry and I probably did. I mean, eight year olds y'know? Who wouldn't? And I should be grateful, I know I should be, but if it can be better I have to try- at least. I have to help, at least. 

I know my mother's a criminal, on paper, I've known since my father got shot for being a better man. And it used to scare me thinking, I'd lose her too one day and be left some mechanic's kid. She's right, you know, it's dangerous. I don't know shit about it other than one day she'll get caught and I won't be able to stop 'em, but that's not for right now. At this point I just have to run my own rebellion, huh? Fixing cars for resale, fixing broken shit- I'm just some mechanic's kid, I'll learn to fix this somehow. 

Eventually, huh?