TP

I don’t think it matters where you are at or where you are going if you forget where you came from… Because it is your past… It is your history that defines your heart and soul… There is no amount of money worth losing yourself… And you lose yourself when you forget where you started… And forget those that were with you through the struggle… It is all from the heart… 

So poor she stole toilet paper from her job… The super cheap toilet paper… And she took some of it and rolled it up to use as a pad… She couldn't afford tampons so she made due… Her shower curtain is half torn… Toothpaste rolled up to get every last little bit… No hair dryer… Just an old hair brush and some makeup she stole from walmart… You walk out the restroom into a hall… To the right is the single bedroom… Mattress on the floor… No sheets… No pillow cases… Blankets over the small windows… Her son's drawings and…. Toys across the floor… Closet filled with dirty clothes… Head back into the hall and move past the bathroom… You enter a small kitchen… Some cabinets broken off… But there is nothing to hide anyway… It's the end of the month and the food stamps just were not enough… A trash bag is tied to one of the drawers… Paper plates and other random trash stuffed inside… Floor sticky from kool aid spilled the night before… Some of the floor is peeled up revealing rotted wood… Roaches sit watching from the shadows enjoying the pain and despair… Pass the kitchen there is small living room… Carpet dark brown… Cushions on the floor and her son sleeps on the cushions with his sippy cup spilled off to the side… A small TV and Dvd player sits on top of a plastic storage bin… And… To the right the front door…

On the three steps leading up to the trailer I sat on the second step… She sat on the third with me between her legs… She had a marker and was writing on my tee shirt… I was texting and trying to collect money owed… At the time I had a White Hummer and it was parked in front of me between her trailer and the neighbors… I sent the text… Then put music on and put my phone on the step next to us… She kissed my neck… I looked at the dirt and weeds in the small yard… I thought about how much I felt at home… Felt truly at home… Here… With no obligations to anyone… All that mattered was surviving another day… So peaceful… I stood… I turned to her… I kissed her lips… I took out some cash and asked her how much her rent was… She said $550…. I tried to hand her $1000… She smiled and said “Babe, no. The rent is paid this month. I don’t need your help.” I stared into her eyes and saw she was serious…. I put the cash back in my pocket and asked “When is the last time you and Lil Man had donuts?”... She said “Never.” and then she laughed… I told her I would be back… And I left… 

I brought back some donuts… A chocolate milk for Lil Man… And we sat on the couch without the cushions… Lil Man was still asleep… I asked her if she ever thought about leaving… She instantly looked down… And said “Babe, my family is here. They are all I have. I could never leave them.” I understood… Her brother was currently in county jail… Her mom worked at home depot to support her alcoholism… Her son's dad was in prison and would get out in a year or so… Her father… She never told me about her father so I have no idea… 

I had to leave for Portland Oregon the next day for a legal hustle… I had sold coke and saved money in order to make the trip and start in a new place and escape my past… I knew she had love for me… But she wouldn't leave… So I stood… I said “I got to piss”... I walked through the living room… Stepping over Lil Man as he slept peacefully… I moved past the kitchen and the roaches… I peeked behind me… I saw she wasn’t looking and instead of going into the restroom… I went into her room… I took out my cash and put the $1000 under her mattress… I stood there for a moment… Looking at the blankets on the window… And the little bit that she owned… I walked out… I didn't sit down by her… I stood at the door… She stood and walked to me… I hugged her tight… I said “I love you”... And she looked up… Tears in her eyes… She said “You can stay.”... I said “I can’t. This is home. If I stay, I will never leave.”... She looked at me confused… But she didn't argue… She just said “I love you too.”... I kissed her lips… Then her forehead… She watched as I drove off… And when I stopped at the light I told her to look under her mattress… And I told her to text me if they ever needed anything… Anything at all… 

I think there are three types of poor… You have the unknown: the poor who don't know they are poor and there is better out there… You have the weak: those that do whatever it takes to escape and forget (me)... And you have the beautiful: those with such heart they will never consider leaving those they are close to even though they know and understand their environment (her)... 

I was recently in Hobbs, New Mexico… A small ghetto town way south… And when I pulled up to the fenced driveway… All the trailers were gone… Torn down… And I wonder if she still exists… If she did escape with her family… Or if she is going through her struggle and raising her son to be happy despite being poor… Or maybe she is gone just like the trailer park… Destroyed so a new class of people can build their dream homes… And last… I wonder if I did escape my past… Or is it impossible… I am the ghetto… No matter how much money I save and earn… I am still a ghetto bastard… I love you is still written on the back of my shirt…