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We stumbled home hand-in-hand as the sun rose over your notoriously boring working class hometown. Not your real hometown it adopted you. The place you come from has a name I can't pronounce. Your accent is rough— more common than your native friends. I think you're afraid that your name might shame you. We stood there outside your gaf in the morning grey. You told me that you can't stand your father my hands ached, I want to bare myself back to you but I don't know how. You just embraced me kissed me all up the sides of my head. I want to tell you nothing has ever been this real for me, but I can't. You are everything I didn't know I was hoping for.
0
Aug 28, 2017
Aug 28, 2017 at 8:03 PM UTC
I open my mouth but nothing comes out
We stumbled home hand-in-hand as the sun rose over your notoriously boring working class hometown. Not your real hometown it adopted you. The place you come from has a name I can't pronounce. Your accent is rough— more common than your native friends. I think you're afraid that your name might shame you. We stood there outside your gaf in the morning grey. You told me that you can't stand your father my hands ached, I want to bare myself back to you but I don't know how. You just embraced me kissed me all up the sides of my head. I want to tell you nothing has ever been this real for me, but I can't. You are everything I didn't know I was hoping for.
molly-5
Written by
Irish
Aug 28, 2017
Aug 28, 2017 at 8:03 PM UTC
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