goodbye, brutal sun

the jobs of the summer hit different.

the coworkers were unshaven, wrinkled men in their forties, juxtaposing my youth 

on man stood out compared to the rest 

he worked fryer, about in his late twenties

his beard unconditioned with tattoos crawling on both arms

a belly sticking out of the uniform black shirt

loaded up each ticket with much as possible, knew the summer prices exploited the tourists 

his voice nasally and depressed. he knew he wasn’t supposed to be here.

he used to go to the same school I’m going to now.

he partied too much, and is now stuck behind the fryer for the past eight years.

and look at him now.

he quit in the middle of his shift, stormed out when both the holder racks were full of tickets 

he came back a few months later to fix the fryer, the head cook was skeptical

I was anxious to see him, looked around the shoulder to see if he was lurking around

I felt a nudge on my elbow then.

shades on his eyes at 7:00, his flesh was bony, the medium shirt looked baggy 

red marks on his upper arm, his face full of acne.

all just to say goodbye

I can’t end up like you. I can’t afford it.

My life cannot be stuck on a fryer until I pay off my mortgage or die,

And it definitely isn’t made to be a 9 to 5 in a cubicle.

I’ve always been feed, no starvation for success 

that silver spoon was always full, comfortable furniture during my life

the American dream was already fulfilled at birth, 

that standard already too high, I would break myself trying the pole vault 

but in my eyes, I see that my soul will already break if I refuse the jump

so I’m forced to my attempt inevitably

because after I received that acceptance letter, that imposter’s syndrome got to me 

feeling under qualified and underwhelmed as I stare at the other art kids in my lecture room 

the competition in high school, I was standing alone by default 

and now I was afraid I’ll be staring at a participation medal

the internship for next summer leaves, and LA will become only a dream

but everything I’ve ever wanted lays in front of my eyes 

and all my fantasies are a finger touch away

so now I’ll reach out with faith, my hopes and desperations reaching the endgame

therefore, I must embrace the artist, having confidence he will not vanquish the person.

no more fearing ego, at this point, self confidence is better than self consciousness 

no more overcorrection with people pleasing, 

the balance of changing for other people and for myself has been sustained

so farewell to the summer,

the forests and oceans I was able to relax and ponder in

the untamed energy while I visited, my mind unfocused and unbothered

the preparation for this new world I’m about to enter in

the one where instead I see a concrete jungle in

so I’ll rid all the inseam shorts and floral shirts with baggy tees and cargo pants

my uncle sent my mama a mcdonalds application sheet and said I’ll be working there.

fuck him. we’ll see where I’ll be in a couple years.