purple petals

Deserves more readers. (IMHO)

words less spoken

when i was a teen girl

i had a teen boy lover

he was broken like James Dean

and like Brando a real bad ass mutherfucker

he kissed with a platinum tongue

as we walked along the Venice sand

he’d get into fights

all bloody and bruised

but we still caught the moonlight

sucking on the booze

we’d fuck until we couldn’t walk

not because of sex or anything

but because of all the glue we huffed

those were wild times

in the eyes of other people

to a punk skater kid

of broken inner spirit

the life style was his fort

me i was just a wanna be

looking for a Trojan Horse

to leave this solar system far behind

by sixteen i’d been dead so many times

and had gotten taken advantage of by force

all because of it

Blaine with the dirty blonde mohawk

my only refuge…

View original post 208 more words

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on December 2, 2019, in Poem - Not Written By Me Though, Reposted from elsewhere. Bookmark the permalink. 9 Comments.

  1. good share and you are right…

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Most enjoyable Ben, thank you.

    – Esme Cloud nodding away

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Thank you for e tip I will visit 🌹

    Liked by 1 person

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