MILO
the hope and the hurt has lived inside of me
but there's gold in the dirt
but there's gold in the dirt
“Me neither.” Milo chirps quickly after Olavi’s comment of never seeing a bear. They weren’t common here, and his imagination also got the best of him. He imagines it’s like a mix between a giant dog and a giant cat. Fuzzy all over with sharp claws. But in all reality, seemed kind of monstrous, and that’s about as much as he knew.
But then Olavi’s asking how old he is, and he raises a brow to that. “I’m over twenty. ‘n I’ve been doin’ this since I was eleven.” A decade, really, of getting involved in the rest of it. But still, there’s a raise of his brow to what Olavi’s trying to get at. As much as Milo knows, he lives and breathes the underground here. He’d have it no other way.
Still, there’s a snort that replaces any swirling anxieties at the mention of quitters never getting anywhere, a rise and fall of Milo’s shoulders. “I prefer t’be livin’ at least.” Better to be a quitter than dead.
But then Olavi’s asking how old he is, and he raises a brow to that. “I’m over twenty. ‘n I’ve been doin’ this since I was eleven.” A decade, really, of getting involved in the rest of it. But still, there’s a raise of his brow to what Olavi’s trying to get at. As much as Milo knows, he lives and breathes the underground here. He’d have it no other way.
Still, there’s a snort that replaces any swirling anxieties at the mention of quitters never getting anywhere, a rise and fall of Milo’s shoulders. “I prefer t’be livin’ at least.” Better to be a quitter than dead.
i never took the time to see
but i knew of its worth
but i knew of its worth
