

Roof-Top Reminisce


It's nights like these when I know my father was right. Whether I like it or not, we're still blood. The bottle of booze in my hand was a bitter reminder of my childhood, though as I got older I began to realize how he could spend thousands of dollars a week on this shit. Sitting on the edge of the roof of my apartment building, I glanced up at the stars, remembering my sweet mother. I like my grandparents