The shade has fallen under the tree... so take my hand and lie there with me. Our calloused hands and haunted green eyes... can then tangle together under mostly clear skies.
There's something about summer evenings that remind me of you... When the sun begins to retreat so that the stars can come through...
Horrible things can't take her if she never looks away... But if she never sees them, she'll be left to pray...
The secrets we shared were unprecedented... Simple words surrendered to actionable power.
Her mind is a labyrinth of what-ifs and have-nots. A self-inflicted maze which spirals... Twists... And constricts... Until finally cascading into what she craves and fears most.
The stars connecting Orion's belt somehow felt closer than the brick pavers laying beneath us.
We both looked to each other for the love we weren't giving ourselves. That's not our fault. That's a learning experience.
There was a stranger in my home. They hid perfectly. Lurking and snaking through the shadows, amusing themselves with the thrill of going unnoticed. They watched silently. Absorbing and observing the miniscule details, adding to their list of evidential flaws. And they searched intrusively. Prying and peering into the failed bits and miserable pieces of … Continue reading Stranger
I remember those hands... They were works of art. Palms built strong and casually calloused, yet soft in all the right places. And those fingers... Piano fingers. Long, straight, and eloquently narrow. Perfect for strumming strings or meandering atop white keys. Those hands were masterpieces. If only you had known how to use them...
At night she closes her eyes and prays that she will forget... But knows she never will.