Home was having my best friend
hold my hair back
because I'd had one too many shots.
Home was listening to him
play a combination of notes
that told the stories of lovers' pasts.
Home was kissing a beautiful dark-haired girl
and laughing because
her saliva tasted like sativa.
Home was a place of sunshine,
peasant skirts, reggae.
Boys covered in dreadlocks smiling up at me from their yoga.
Home was falling asleep
on Vicodin
and sadness.
but now I am just lost.
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 5:54 PM UTC
Home was having my best friend
hold my hair back
because I'd had one too many shots.
Home was listening to him
play a combination of notes
that told the stories of lovers' pasts.
Home was kissing a beautiful dark-haired girl
and laughing because
her saliva tasted like sativa.
Home was a place of sunshine,
peasant skirts, reggae.
Boys covered in dreadlocks smiling up at me from their yoga.
Home was falling asleep
on Vicodin
and sadness.
but now I am just lost.
TW: Drug reference ****** I don't really like this so I'll probably edit it later.
