My words are a direct reflection of what is being played out in my mind. For artistic purpose and dramatic effect I have duct-tapped the "edit" button…
You and me, pink shades gazing into a mirrored poolWater smooth as glass, no reflection just a bounceIt's 4 a.m. footsteps are like a whimper in the nightAnd when the sun rises, all of my angstAll of my failures drift like the distant soundOf a lover stepping off without noticeA kiss, repetitive words...call you later …
Maybe it was the glimmer of something gentle Coming into view that pushed me to my knees Imagining the touch of a kitten's paw on my cheek No rosary falling to the floor Dust collecting beads hanging from my bedpost ...shifting gears from sensation to visual Or maybe the sighting of a shooting star that …
There are days when little to nothing can move within the close quarters of the walls now self proclaimed as barren – claustrophobia is a weakness to some that steps up when all else fails and yes there is some comfort in the self imprisonment confinement the familiar the nest of being able to reach …
There’s not much time to get it right try try again and what is pleasing to the eye can take the heart on a long long ride with not much to show but lesson lived and bridges burned while the wind continues to blow a sweet sweet song and voices carry whispered words that went …
Trilby Yates 