it is in the silent moments of catching my breath that you slide around my brainstem and squeeze between songs as the backbeat fades only my heartbeat and your voice as the seconds turn to hours there is a feeling of a somnambulist’s sojourn ending as i awake securely bound to your words
still not able to write fiction, the mental block barricading all but a trickle where once a torrent roared unthrottled and free but the ideas are returning, even if i can see that they are just allusions to the illusion that cast my mind in delusion for too long none so blinded as when the […]
he didn’t bound out of bed exuberant with the sounding alarm soothed by the chorus of birds trilling the glory of the morning sun ready to face the new day he rolled painfully to the edge of the matress let himself drop to the floor with gravity doing the bulk of the heavy lifting scowling […]
Mike's Manic Word Depot 