I kept a close watch, I had no choice. Too many times the end got close, your love, a necklace too much a noose. so I found myself alone, your fire an overwhelming tide. Oh how I dreamed of toeing the line, steering my feet off the side. Of turning my back to the siren, … Continue reading The Line
The song spills into my ears as fingers fly faster over keys straining under the constant tempo it hasn't seen in years. Beg me, beg me, the words are spilling and we are here. The villains in my head are begging for a hero and we are finally here, watching as the wall tumbles the … Continue reading Please Stop You’re Scaring Me
Sometimes there isn't a title for a story. The words just flow like the sound of a brook in a wood no one knows of, until an author describes how the shift of the gentle breeze allows soft rays to caress the water to life. Then the sounds of the woods come to life before … Continue reading Sometimes There Isn’t A Title For A Story
It is the clinking.... and the soft violin in the back that reminds me why I'm drinking alone. The soft hallelujah of distance voices and I can't tell if I spilled my drink or if I'm crying. Tell me my friend as my fingers move over the keys while the piano catches dust in the … Continue reading Violin Lullaby
