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About Me
- Iztac Metztli
- She was a girl of infinite potential. with nowhere to go but home. Home. An undefined inexplicable yearning for a place that could only exist in the soul. A woman who's life was the down,down,down, up, down, up, down, up, strumming of D chords on the guitar. with light pink A minors and heavy green E's. She was a plucker of never ending melonchaly notes. a hummer of things that sounded like sadness. But most of all. she was a keeper of words. a shaper of pensamientos. and a lover of knowledge. A woman who thought. Perhaps. Maybe. Home was a combination of stone houses and sparking rails.
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