Oct 29, 2020
Conversations about home, Warsan shire
I place the cities Warsan talks about on my shoulder and then ask you to open your palm. I find out that you have been holding a bullet all this time.
I want to spell home on a guy’s neck and not end up in a truck-like warsan.
To build a home by The cinematic orchestra
Home, Bruno Major
I know nothing about home, I want to place sunlight on my lap and feel caressed but I feel like I’m getting dragged somewhere, a city on my back, trying to get free of my clutch, with a skin that looks like mine, you’d have nowhere to go, you’d have no guys to kiss you, but you’d still call yourself home because the home was always ugly, and it always will be.
