I bought my sweet boy with
a years worth of eleven-elevens
and an apron-full of white petals.
I won him from an army of ghosts
by leading him by the hand
and never looking back.
I earned him for a price
that I, vagabond, must rent
his heart in which to live.
For I have nothing of my own.
Not anymore.
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 6:36 PM UTC
I bought my sweet boy with
a years worth of eleven-elevens
and an apron-full of white petals.
I won him from an army of ghosts
by leading him by the hand
and never looking back.
I earned him for a price
that I, vagabond, must rent
his heart in which to live.
For I have nothing of my own.
Not anymore.
