Victoria Britto




e-mail: VictoriaBrito88@yahoo.com

website:Victoria's MySpace profile

A little bit about me...
Call me Vikki, 18 years old and living in Dorchester, MA. I go to school at the Boston Architectural Center for my bachelors of architecture. I live with my dramatic and loving sister, who is quite a handful, and can be mildly amusing at times. I grew up in Dartmouth, and have written poetry my whole life. I am eratically static and enjoy pointing fun at unknowing victims. You don't have to love me... but chances are... that you eventually will.

Here's a sample of my stuff...

Destiny's Flaw
My stomach is sick.
She's not me.
Destinty made a mistake.
A flaw in time.
Sleepless nights.
Please let me go.
I see you there.
Silent screams.
I can't look.
The sight is torture.
Jealousy is the price that I pay.
I can't recognize myself without you.
Don't ignore me.
Can't I change your mind?

Waiting
Everything you think and everything you feel is right.
You want what you want, and you don't want me.
I keep waiting to feel, to feel something real
I will wait here for you.
Just give me the chance

DeMOCKracy
Staggering quantities slain.
A vicious mark on society.
Whom do you trust?
Hazy business deals wave overhead.
Unconscious citizens transfixed on morals.
Fear controls the psyche.
Masterful manipulations of ideals.
Justice becomes a memory.
DeMOCKracy

and just to show that Vikki has a lighter side...

Vikki's "Homeless Guy" Chronicles, Chapter 13.
There is this homeless man that sits outside of my school. He is here every day, and every day he asks us for money. Well, I hate giving homeless people money, because you never know what they are going to do with it. Every day when we walk by, he yells stuff at us and we laugh because it's funny. He asks us, if we have any extra coins, if we would like to "drop it like its hott" right into his plastic Dunkin Donuts cup. He always calls my freind Lindsay "Genie," as in I Dream of Genie, as in "I'm a crack-head." Well when we walk by, he always says he loves her, and Lindsay just rolls her eyes and he goes "Hey baby, I hope you don't act like that tonight!" Haha, yeah, he's a character. Silly silly. This afternoon, Lindsay and I went tanning, so we got lunch together, and thought we would give him our extra lunch. He looked at us, spit on the pizza and then called us crackers. Its a love-hate relationship we have with Smokey McCrackhead. So yeah, another typical day in Boston, MA, homeless people, being called a cracker, and COLD!! My nipples could cut DIAMONDS!!! My Loooord! But yeah, I'm going to go now and play tag in traffic.

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