Do you dream of me like I dream of you? Your touch lingers. Caressing my rolls, you pull me closer. I toss and turn, looking for sleep, I find peace: in your hands I find comfort, in your heart I find warmth. Frozen, eyes open, when will you leave? Let me show you out my bed and out my front door- let the record show I did it first. I need you to need me the way I need you, but I won't allow you to take the final piece of me. Men before you helped themselves; there is nothing left for me.
The last time I saw my dad cry was when we still lived in Briarwood, and got the news his cousin, Alan, had died. Last night I went to visit my dad in the hospital. Since he’s been retired, he’s been pretty chatty. It’s the same few subjects over and over again. Cars, politics lite, and the way things used to be; it’s usually the latter. Last night’s conversation crept up on me. Maybe it was because I wasn’t listening whole- heartedly. Maybe it was because I’ve heard the stories before. But before I knew it, I could hear the quiver in his voice. It’s a noise I’m familiar with. Usually from my mother, sometimes from my students, but more often than not, it’s a sound that comes from my own being. But never from my father. When I was a kid, I cried a lot. When I was sad, when I was in trouble, when I thought I was getting in trouble, when I was getting yelled at. At the sight of me crying he would mock me, yelling more, he would comment on my “long face.” I forget sometimes that my
Do you dream of me like I dream of you? Your touch lingers. Caressing my rolls, you pull me closer. I toss and turn, looking for sleep, I find peace: in your hands I find comfort, in your heart I find warmth. Frozen, eyes open, when will you leave? Let me show you out my bed and out my front door- let the record show I did it first. I need you to need me the way I need you, but I won't allow you to take the final piece of me. Men before you helped themselves; there is nothing left for me.
The last time I saw my dad cry was when we still lived in Briarwood, and got the news his cousin, Alan, had died. Last night I went to visit my dad in the hospital. Since he’s been retired, he’s been pretty chatty. It’s the same few subjects over and over again. Cars, politics lite, and the way things used to be; it’s usually the latter. Last night’s conversation crept up on me. Maybe it was because I wasn’t listening whole- heartedly. Maybe it was because I’ve heard the stories before. But before I knew it, I could hear the quiver in his voice. It’s a noise I’m familiar with. Usually from my mother, sometimes from my students, but more often than not, it’s a sound that comes from my own being. But never from my father. When I was a kid, I cried a lot. When I was sad, when I was in trouble, when I thought I was getting in trouble, when I was getting yelled at. At the sight of me crying he would mock me, yelling more, he would comment on my “long face.” I forget sometimes that my
Hey, Im still pretty busy. Junior year is pretty hectic. I havent been on dA as much as Id like or out taking photos as often as I would like but hey, it happens. Lately Ive been on because Ive had the week off and started going on the forums again and Ive been featured. :D
Feb 22: http://bunkingum.deviantart.com/art/Message-from-the-Battle-Jar-63245115 AND http://bunkingum.deviantart.com/art/They-Are-Not-You-Dos-112587043 got featured by ~Gothic-Lollita. Please check out the other features! http://news.deviantart.com/article/71984/
http://bunkingum.deviantart.com/art/Message-from-the-Battle-Jar-63245115 got featured by =Eirene86. Please ch
So Ive had a pretty busy summer and schools already getting busy as hell. Ive been trying to get out and do more photos but time doesnt permit. :(
Well anyway I got featured a few days ago. The first time in a few months.
Sept 10: http://bunkingum.deviantart.com/art/I-Breathe-With-My-Lungs-82207671 got featured by =Initio. Please check out the other features! http://news.deviantart.com/article/57364/