i remember you giving me eyes
outside Chicago your brothers
your sisters anyone who happened by
mom pushing meat
and potatoes. we took sides
off editorials in the Reader you
gave me eyes young and in trouble i
could not see i never wanted to hurt you
but i did #katyamills
the echo the sound
of industry
the brick houses the train
whistles the desire
kept you up all night. chicago
was full of lost souls
searching 4 they
life
#katyamills
if there was snow
there were snowballs
you hit me with one
started a battle
blew into a hundred thousand particles
each little packed explosion tasting
touched by love
chicago
winter when i remember
you
how deep
we fell
by instinct
irrepressibly
uncontrolled
elevated
irresistibly
bookstores and books
we bought dropping the change
into hands holding cups like a prayer
outside mcdonalds
soon there would be
nothing more
to live
for
#katyamills
remix’1996
this energy has welled
pulled us into the hollow
inside
this energy has shifted
can we trust it?
who cares!
let’s get up and go to the store
together. look at the clouds!
giving us all and the
trees a glow
i have fifty cents
i will buy you a
coke
Girl Without Borders by Katya Mills
I am the author of this book. I wrote the greater portion of this book when I was in my twenties, living in Chicago on the west side (not far from where the Smashing Pumpkins got famous, and the movie High Fidelity was filmed). I used to go to the coffeeshops in Bucktown and the Polish Triangle with my laptop to write. This was late 1990s and you could get your ass kicked for writing on a laptop in public. It wasn’t cool to be a geek. Writing from my protagonist Will’s perspective was not difficult seeing as I am gender fluid myself. I was a pretty tough chick or I thought I was, rather angry at the world, introverted, rebellious in attitude and spirit. I hung around other punks and geeks I met in the bars, cafes and small clubs on Division and Damen, and in Wicker Park and the Ukrainian Village. All I wanted was to be left alone and write. I was in some existential pain, I suppose, lonely in my heart. So I gravitated toward others who felt injured or broken. I had more than one love/hate relationship, the characteristics of which you will find in the novel. You can call in creative nonfiction if not fiction. If you ever go to Chicago look up Quimby’s bookstore and the Flat Iron Building. I wrote the greater portion of this book a stone throw away.
was america was
chicago was life worth
working for ina cross
road. you and me and any one
fought through the seasons
the vocals the
exhaust
the steam of whistling
industry
i could feel the touch
the warmth beneath your voice
in a cold world
you could shout you could scream
you would have to
to be heard
then the aftermath the streets
the faces ina diner
ina hard won heartfelt
part of town
mocha skin tones made by
sun and genes
cream and sugar and
coffee black
where noise is music
toasting broken hearts and
dishes and bottles. you woke me up
i can feel you today thousands
of miles away
i can laugh
i can cry ona dime ina city
and the music of
noise
i was and wasn’t
there
stolen car
desperate men
1950
conspire for quick
cash
chicago
there will be
blood
i carried paper with me
everywhere
in a knapsack
or an overcoat pocket in the winters
of west side chicago
alleyways
my back against bricks
i held them under weak hanging
lights threading open mics
the Appalachian trail
did not stop me
the subway trains
the bars
the libraries (of course)
into parks where the sky
opened up all my thoughts
often i lay them out
beside my jack
rocks
i felt the social
vacuum
around me
dead air
i didn’t
care
so alive
was i
K IS SILENT 