I’ll start with the rain ‘ cause rain is something that’s clear and real…. And my story is hard enough to believe as it is. Also… the rain obscures without lying… And I don’t know which parts of my story are real anymore… And which parts are phantoms of me memory. My name is Kook-kig … Up until very recently I used to feel like this fly I once saw in class Banging its head against the invisible barrier over and over again Buzzing away. Desperate to escape into a larger world. So hungry for something new…. And no one even noticing. I was small, to invisible. No, not invisible. Being invisible would’ve been cool. Got it!! Ligh! I just wasn’t worth noticing. It was in every part of my life. And even though it seemed to come from so far away… It still felt like it was aimed right at me… Like a missile!! Friends took away the numbness. And made me feel less alone.
Interests
punk music,playing...
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Kiss me out of the bearded barley. Nightly, beside the green, green grass. Swing, swing, swing the spinning step. You wear those shoes and I will wear that dress.
Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight. Lead me out on the moonlit floor. Lift your open hand. Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance, Silver moon’s sparkling. So kiss me.
Kiss me down by the broken tree house. Swing me upon its hanging tire. Bring, bring, bring your flowered hat. We’ll take the trail marked on your father’s map.