Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Memories of a Back Burner Youth
That girl that broke into your island mobile home was harmless.
That girl went around your mansion, through the side gate, peeking through the large windows and finding your glass staircase. She was harmless.
That girl that spent time with her hooligan friends on your dock, yelling and pointing when fish flew, was harmless.
She walked inside your home when it was in its earliest stages of fruition, avoiding construction workers like they were the feds. She pretended she owned everything, even when the painters came and left it looking like lifesavers vomit. You asked her never to come back, especially when you were having dinner parties with important people.
She agreed because she was harmless.
That girl was me. And I'm still harmless. I promise.
That girl went around your mansion, through the side gate, peeking through the large windows and finding your glass staircase. She was harmless.
That girl that spent time with her hooligan friends on your dock, yelling and pointing when fish flew, was harmless.
She walked inside your home when it was in its earliest stages of fruition, avoiding construction workers like they were the feds. She pretended she owned everything, even when the painters came and left it looking like lifesavers vomit. You asked her never to come back, especially when you were having dinner parties with important people.
She agreed because she was harmless.
That girl was me. And I'm still harmless. I promise.
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