Her name was Sherry Rome....

She wore skull buckle boots
And hush puppies
And smelled of expensive perfume baby powder and clove cigarettes,

Her hair was black as my soul
And her lips were red like the blood that flows thru my veins.

Her fingers long and elegant and cigarette stained and she was always cold like a vampire.

She was my english rose ..a rose in a world of weeds and ugly things and I fought to get her, I showed her the charming man and was always on best behavior.

Her name is Sheri Rome and is from new orleans or england and lives in la??

She had an accent that would go away when she got comfortable

She would take the bus to cal state to come see me from Pasadena

I ran away from home with her because my mom didn't want her to sleep over because her mom said if it's past a certain hour don't come back until the next day.

It was a innocent love , nothing physical and our connection was all mental but my traditional mother did not agree so I went with her.

She probably has kids now that are full grown and she has her hair blond and an ex and new husband that never will know her the way I knew her for such a short time.

Our connection is eternal but we were both goth kids running away from the bullies and assholes of woodrow wilson high school.

I hope she is well and that all her wishes come thru and that most important of all she is happy.