Garden Of Chives

This poem is dark. I got inspired to write it after watching The Wire. If you haven't watched this series- watch it! Every season touched upon something different whether it was the drug dealers, the school system, the longshoremen, the media, the politicians, or the city government in Baltimore, Maryland. This poem was inspired by the season that focused on the drug dealers and drug addicts of West Baltimore.

Garden of Chives

The stick of happiness burrows into my skin.
It tears next to the freckle that
My mother would always kiss.
It tears into the purple vein that pulses
From excitement.
Happiness is injected into the purple pulsing passageway
And I'm gone.
But back.
Back to the small garden full of chives.
I can almost feel the onion taste in my mouth.
I run back to my mother
As she embraces my small body and the scent.
She doesn’t get mad at me for eating the garden of chives.
Then I finish the ride of my high and I'm back.
Back to the empty redbrick row house staring at the
Plywood that’s used as my door.
The tiny hole in the middle reveals a garden of
Junkies, crimes, prostitutes.
No chives.