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Home~Home
It was nine months ago now that he showed up on my front porch, unshaven and carrying a dirty backpack. “Do you want to come with?” he asked.
I stood in my doorway and looked back at my mess of a life. By this point, I was weary, depressed, and sick of it all. I didn’t even ask where we were going. It sounded better than here. “Sure.”
So we went.
~
Since then we have been traveling; often hitchhiking and sleeping outside, never planning. I never know where we are going, but we don't get lost.
Some days we scale mountains
by ~foreverhope
Something True.There were boys.Something True.
There were short boys and tall boys, clean shaven boys and tattooed-and-pierced boys.
There were boys with curly black hair, boys with blue eyes. Most had addictions. Some were strikingly average.
As soon as I turned sixteen they came into my life, one by one. They came and went like weekends. They held my hand and promised me the world and broke my heart. They taught me to please so they could use me. Some disrespected, pressured and teased me. Others taught me intolerance and pessimism. Some made me feel worthless, like a passing fad. Some of the boys loved me sometimes. We had f
by ~foreverhope
a todosIf you cannot read this it is because I ama todos
FOREIGN (RARA, EXTRANJERA) dando vueltas por tu pais and
my thoughts
won´t fit in your language.
by ~foreverhope
the jet-plane vagrant---the jet-plane vagrant
It doesn´t rain in Rosario but that day it rained and the traveller with a red umbrella hurried through it.
The old man was ambling and whistling, and the traveller nearly hit him. He had only a cane.
She slowed to his pace, easy like his song. She listened and walked and cursed herself for wasting time. She wished for warmer socks and to be at home in herself and she wondered if she, too, had an unwritten song to whistle and if she could ever be like him, so unaffected by the rain.
And all he wanted in all the world was hot chicken soup.
----
by ~foreverhope
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"...She’s so afraid of the world, she won’t even consider what’s outside her bedroom door.” -Me
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"Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies."
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Still Alive
Even though I don't aspire to be a poet, I wish my poetry was this awesome! gj mate!
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snv.
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::{ deidre's poetry can be found under ~zaknafein's account }::
::{ join the revolution. }::
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check out my work!! or the penguins will eat you! no seriously, they will.
i could tell you that i am a nympho, an alcoholic, a bitch, lazy, a glutton, quirky, a blasphemer, a deviant, obscene, proud fornicator, foul mouthed, a cunt, obsessive compul
oh,
and Look here
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0.0.1 Ghost "Baby Travis"
0.0.1 Montly het Butter "Kamerschoff"
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