i choose not to shoot-
to wait;
but everything
everything
is telling me
to let rounds fly;
Writing, Ideas, & Stories
i choose not to shoot-
to wait;
but everything
everything
is telling me
to let rounds fly;
it was a
`
spacial
`
experience
her eyes
they screamed
violence
violet in the sun
red in the new moon
this is our requiem;
i knew it
the moment i saw you
i couldn’t look away
scornful eyes peered down
i didn’t care.
the way you bounced
in the summer night
i caved in your eyes
i’m glad they never returned
i wouldn’t have let you go
i chose to take my time
to fill the holes
left by fiction
i remember you
differently
a quiet one,
now
you yell from the highest mountain top
whatever happened
i’m happy
i love your voice
it wasn’t the first time
or the second
or the sixth
or the last
it was the time
in my dreams
i could never forget
i talked my way out
of something
real
that i still remember
like it was yesterday
it
was
a
spacial
experience
i remember
the day you became a ghost
an walked through me