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I hid behind long locks of dark hair back then. And sang of places I would not visit for another three to five years. Some places had real names but were fiction in my brain. I gave myself an alias among others' real names. Why was I so secretive? "You are young," they'd tell me. I didn't want to hear that. The room was a relief from the Ohio cold in mid-January, that was always when the air was the most brutal. The community we built was short-lived but lovely it was where I tucked myself away for the winter before climbing out on my two hands and not ever thinking to look back.
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Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 12:41 PM UTC
The Northside
I hid behind long locks of dark hair back then. And sang of places I would not visit for another three to five years. Some places had real names but were fiction in my brain. I gave myself an alias among others' real names. Why was I so secretive? "You are young," they'd tell me. I didn't want to hear that. The room was a relief from the Ohio cold in mid-January, that was always when the air was the most brutal. The community we built was short-lived but lovely it was where I tucked myself away for the winter before climbing out on my two hands and not ever thinking to look back.
jettlotus
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Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 12:41 PM UTC
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