When I turned that key, the night was finally over
It wasn’t easy, they threw a few fists
Mad that the ale had dried up
Now, in the calm of being left alone
I would start with the ashes
dumping out another one of those “greatest nights ever”
sure, the memories
but, the smell, the taste, the touch,
all still left to make believe
I miss…
the very start
opening characters, scene one
greener grass, the bluest skies, salty ocean
that street light at night where I would measure my shadow to the tip of the moon
those flaked fences, white
a particular damp night sky that I loved and haven’t smelt in a long, long time
tipped-toed curbs, run past the shop
yes, my eyes could go blind and I would still make it anyway
follow the path by memory alone…to my home
grab a bunch of those crazy flowers along the way
but now, I can only recount
because tomorrow had to come
and now strangers walk about
like I was never even there
I remember first being cold
alone, outside and in
my eyes sore, drained
pinched red
We worry about what a child will become tomorrow, yet we forget that he is someone today. – Stacia Tauscher
Thursday, 9:50 A.M.
Thanks for the lift home, Ethan. I don’t think I could have gotten behind the wheel after that.
No worries, Sarah. It’s me, and it’s the least I can do. You doing OK?
I still can’t believe it. Kevin…I mean, we only spoke a few weeks ago. He returned my apartment key and we had coffee together.
Continue reading “The Black Journal – (A Ride Home)”
Hey everybody,
Need your help with something. I’ve been brainstorming a few new ideas regarding my blog lately. Nothing too dramatic, just a few simple tweaks to make the flow of my page work better. I want to allow new followers a chance to easily access some of my more focused categories. I’m even considering cutting a few and devoting my time to what seems to be the good stuff. And, that’s based on feedback and commented interest.
Every day…I write you a love letter.
No pen, no paper, just what’s inside my heart.
I know they never reach you.
But, right now I’m OK with that.
Because, no matter how many words I’ve written, or how many more I’ll write.
My heart will never close what was, what is…what will forever be,
the best chapters of my life.
“I was a little excited but mostly blorft. “Blorft” is an adjective I just made up that means ‘Completely overwhelmed but proceeding as if everything is fine and reacting to the stress with the torpor of a possum.’ I have been blorft every day for the past seven years.”
― Tina Fey, Bossypants
You have power over your mind – not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength. – Marcus Aurelius
We kill all the caterpillars, then complain there are no butterflies. – John Marsden
Earth To Ash 