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Naked grass
Lady_Alison
Veteran
When I was child, a Spring child, I never liked to wear shoes. I never did outside of school and only when I was dragged into a decent dress to go out with my mom and stepdad.
We never had any money, so spring break and summers where mine. As soon as I was back in THEIR home from grown up things, I would tear off those Mary Janes. Then I would roll around the floor, red faced and panting until I was free from itchy stockings and that wretched blue green plaid skirt.
I usually wore dirty overalls and a tank top. In the mornings of spring break and long summers, when the sun rose enough to come into my room, I was gone.
Gone, barefoot, into the broken pavement of the sidewalks and quiet streets. Running as fast as I could with my loose braid trailing behind me, my skinny brown arms and legs pumping with all their spirit.
Gone into the wild meadows and fields, where the children of broken homes played "hide and seek" and "be the one to kiss me".
I was barefoot when I had my first kiss. So was he. I don't remember the kiss. Only the deep bleeding gash in the instep of my right foot being cooled by the damp grass like a balm.
Gone, until our tired calloused feet and weary bodies collapse beneath pecan trees, we ate so many with crushed wild berries and hose water from a stranger's yard.
Our parents never looked for us, they were too worried about grown up things like clocks, shoes and divorce.
We felt so alone and free beneath the open sky, with the sun warm on our happy little faces and our bellies bloated from wild foraging.
Gone, until the humming of street lights would signal the end of the day, the wilderness smeared into our clothing and tangled in our hair, our calloused naked feet leading us back inside with them. Away from our wild home.
We never had any money, so spring break and summers where mine. As soon as I was back in THEIR home from grown up things, I would tear off those Mary Janes. Then I would roll around the floor, red faced and panting until I was free from itchy stockings and that wretched blue green plaid skirt.
I usually wore dirty overalls and a tank top. In the mornings of spring break and long summers, when the sun rose enough to come into my room, I was gone.
Gone, barefoot, into the broken pavement of the sidewalks and quiet streets. Running as fast as I could with my loose braid trailing behind me, my skinny brown arms and legs pumping with all their spirit.
Gone into the wild meadows and fields, where the children of broken homes played "hide and seek" and "be the one to kiss me".
I was barefoot when I had my first kiss. So was he. I don't remember the kiss. Only the deep bleeding gash in the instep of my right foot being cooled by the damp grass like a balm.
Gone, until our tired calloused feet and weary bodies collapse beneath pecan trees, we ate so many with crushed wild berries and hose water from a stranger's yard.
Our parents never looked for us, they were too worried about grown up things like clocks, shoes and divorce.
We felt so alone and free beneath the open sky, with the sun warm on our happy little faces and our bellies bloated from wild foraging.
Gone, until the humming of street lights would signal the end of the day, the wilderness smeared into our clothing and tangled in our hair, our calloused naked feet leading us back inside with them. Away from our wild home.
0
Comments
If only we could remember how to be so happy without all the things society taught us we needed to be so.
I had a picture of your pale bare ass...with goosebumbs and grass bits stuck to it...and gravel. Lol. You guys are funny.
Us has more taboos about the body than UK.
I had a picture of your pale bare ass...with goosebumbs and grass bits stuck to it...and gravel. Lol. You guys are funny.
Us has more taboos about the body than UK.
Really makes you feel alive though.