Dug
I was hiding under your porch because I love you. - Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Posts
A Hole in the Sky
The moon burns a hole in the sky. Maybe the winter air makes its brilliance something to stare at in awe. To watch. Listening to the night air. The night noises. The things that live at night when the rest of the world is asleep. What do you hear?
I Remember
There are moments, especially in the hush of evening, when the unsaid things rise like smoke. Do you ever hear them? The words I never found time or courage to speak. They come back now, whispering in the folds of silence, asking if you knew—if you know . Small things, maybe, to anyone else. But to me, they thunder. They beg to be freed, to find a voice, to be felt . That’s what matters most—feeling. Not just hearing, but knowing . In the pause between night sounds, or the quiet stillness of a sunlit room, can you hear it? That faint voice? That’s me. Still trying.
Where Are We
A man lost in time...he sings. The sands emptying out of the hour glass. Old age creeping across his face like a spider spinning its web in the dark forest across a path that no one will walk. A voice that is tired and filled with passion, filled with tears. Perhaps regretting the past. Perhaps afraid of the tomorrow. Lost in time. Memories mixed with the now. The moment. As long as there is... another lyric softly spoken as the music builds and swells, growing louder... you... me. Time. New aches. Unknown secrets of illness quietly growing in the dark. Time. There's just not enough to get it all done. Desperate. Feelings. Desperate feelings. The moment, it will finally come. When does it come. It's going to be alright, he whispers to no one as he draws a line in the air, drawing blood, the thick ooze dripping from his fingers. The copper taste in his mouth. Time. An empty ache. Desperate feelings for a man lost in time.
