Free Write Entires Week 9

Entry 1:
I was driving into the sunset and decided to keep going, broke
through some wall of light or another to ride waves, solar flares
we like to call Mama, Ma not familiar with these sorts of things,
don't have time to bother with this scientific shit she'd tell us
by the cookie co's oven, baking obesity into the mouths of babes,
reality is when the sun burns out like the oven light
mama will still be there, shoving sugar in our mouths
and mantras in our brains - and if they ever try to hurt ya,
she says, why you just get em with a lock in a sock. it's considered
a deadly weapon but we don't give a damn. we like she's already
there, beside us, slanging tube socks into faces of people
too rude to just ask nicely. seek and ye shall find, He said
and she told us. Mama told us that she met Jesus there right in a jail cell,
locked up for twenty for selling the drug that carved the wrinkles
in her hands, her hands older than she could ever look, she's no
good for much of anything but this: advice we'll pretend we forget
but write down to keep as jokes but when she told me not to burn down
bridges cus you'll be leaving the trolls homeless, i remembered.
All of us glued together by her smoke breaks
and deep breaths, our family built from her back wood
accent and carved by her reminders that there ain't nobody
that will love you more than the people who already do.
Mama got fired and we all came back anyway, some karmic
betrayl of the only person who ever knew
what she was talking about, the one who saved us,
the Jesus we met behind cookie caked counters
and in duck decored kitchens during our own
last supper: green beans and fried chicken, baby. you can count on that.

Entry 2:
Fun was the first word I could spell. Three letters
neat consonant, vowel, consonant like the kind we were having
big plans to go nowhere but exactly where we were, in wonderland,
birthday parties and lego sets (even though we were just three
girls), dreams or maybe not because all of it was the same
thing, being awake or being inside was all colors tied
around my wrist like limp balloons. And I was ten out
of nowhere, begged my mom to let me skip that birthday
and just be eleven now, forget those days - who needs
an extra year, mommy? Mommy got shorter and Fun gets louder
when you get turned up in years or days or seconds even
minute by minute until you are done listening to music
and just want to be alone. F-U-N, three letters for one
word, also necessary in funk where the fun leads
when you just forget to have it.

side note: the first word i could actually spell was green, just fyi.