the peach sky.The pallid petals - pretty wishes keep me here. Oh, and I'm still standing here. Pale blue light and a mirror, To sit against a tree; a reminder of someone I was but not, Again.the peach sky.
Calligraphy. Lay me down. I feel the markings beneath gown and ground - drowning bathtubs, garden babies; Come, darling. Come and take me.
What a wreck, the telephone's down. A static-like noise erases the sound. I'm still standing here though my knees bleed cotton - Extinction of a doll, glass eyes; forgotten.
Write on me to hear me speak. No sound, ju
Of Goldfish CompanyI never really understood what to do when the drop tone rang in my ear and immediately the crickets and swish of the ceiling fan would come to replace it. It was like a tidal wave in reverse, noise slipping away until all you heard was the soft clutter reality continually connected to silence and, I know, I know, I'm feeling the irony; silence could only be so loud but...well, damn. I'm almost ready to say I'm surprised to see that I'm making all of zero sense but, if you looked at this situation closely, I was high on caffeine and insomnia; I was a boy with a reasonable excuse.Of Goldfish Company
The effect was depressing. At three-thirty in the m
~pt-written
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... Sincerely Yours, Violently Yours ...
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