waiting for the bus : 1

im waiting for the bus to get here by watching dust devils blow around with the wind

rarely do i talk on this bus and for lack of a better word i may sit here alone with a book in my hand as these boys laugh loud and press buttons on their games. often times i feel detached from this space and i would admit my skin partially inclines these thoughts to my mind.

most of my friends in that school were either dark or light and a few white but mostly girls. i noticed that the white boys would spend time together more often than not and occasionally i could be brought in for laughter and good food around a cafeteria table.

there are torillas warming and eggs with chorizo burning those smells into my nose.