| Constructive critique welcomed! |


christmas is gonewe sit on the mossy brick stoop of our apartment building in the bronxchristmas is gone
our breaths color the air and our jeans
and thermals
keep us warm i know you still feel cold inside
i can't help but look up at you with admiration what every boy has for his older brother
i know our parents are gone and I can deal with that all I've ever known in my life was you
between us there is a shoebox filled with memories affection everything we miss
in the hand that does not house your lighter you clasp a pola


AwakeI watch hot fresh tears pour down his flushed cheeks as he clenches his fist and slams it into the space beside my head. I stare at him, unblinking. He digs his fingers into my palm, he is sobbing now. I watch his hair fall in loose tendrils and curl at his ears. He presses himself against me, the tips of his clean suede Nike Forces pushing against my bare feet. My eyes lack moisture to fit the moment. His forehead leans on my shoulder.Awake
"Cry for me." He whispers.
What am I supposed to say back? I have no more feeling left. I can't remember the rough calloused tips of his fingers running down my side. I can't rememb
viola kid| Constructive critique welcomed! |
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"Of course he DIED! When you fall through the curtain of DEATH, you DIE! That's what happens!"
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''Y a ş a r K E S K İ N''
www.fotokaradeniz.com & www.hikayefabrikasi.tumblr.com
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"imagine + create= Imaginate"
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Beware the cheese monkeys...
~Mushroom-Hunters
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