The water dripped from the side of the table. Hitting the floor and sending an echo that stretched through the air, as the sounds bounced off the walls. The cup, now rolling to follow the course drawn in steady streams. The hands that held it twitched every few seconds. Eyes that wandered, penetrated by the
Vibes. Night Rides described by the light amongst the skies. Eyes closed as if blind to side with time passing by. Dreams. Lucidly seeping to reams. Bleeding on screens. Escape. Facing mistakes contemplated on stage. Unlaced to strip tapes placed. Freed. Degrees decreed to feed seas need. Oceans deep intertwined and described by filigree. Living.
I’ve always enjoyed talking to those who have a special place in my heart. I’ve recently been talking to a friend about love, relationships and in general, life. A lot of the times I like to go back and the words we say, is in fact something I need to hear or relearn. I usually
I can say please, Oh please, please don’t forget. Yet with regret I suspend memories so I could mend. Extend condolences as I transcend from defense. Don’t take offense and discredit, I was someone you could of called friend. Proving with pinky promises, beyond eternities end. Yet was constantly tried as if I lied. Sentenced
I’m here again. Contemplating thoughts within hours of which my time of rest is will over due. You would think, one such as myself would find the priority to take his sleeping pills and get a goods night rest. Yet, the thoughts plagued me and came flooding in before I had time to open the
Let’s clear the air. No, this isn’t a febreze commercial. I just wanted a catchy way to catch your attention. Here I am, 1 am, writing another post. Something clicked today as I was driving to work. Some notion that for the longest time since I started to reflect on my life and notice I
He looked at her. He could see the glimmer of hope in her eyes. Her eyes piercing through his gaze into his soul. The curls in her hair and skin as reflected like the golden sands. He was the never ending rain in the night. While she was the howling wind that drifted the clouds
To write is to bleed. That’s basically my tag line. I remember writing a similar post to the things I will talk about on this one, awhile back, when I was first starting out on my blog. I explained how sometimes we just get “blocked”. As a writer, you would think it would be easy.
Howling upon the moon in search of the dreams of the morrow. Seeing such beauty, filled by its light, reflecting from thy eyes. Ever present though at times it escapes my sight as I search the heavens. Quiet nights and yet through its form it brings me not comfort. Finding warmths embrace upon the fires
Allow me to be honest. It is easy to say that we will be honest but for the most part do we actually mean it? Coming from how the world is slowly being shaped and how our self-love has evolved to an egocentric belief, is is a question we must ask. I usually always speak