Phil, Amy, Rob; names like fingerprints marking my identity in my memories of time.
Life, a series of events, like an expo, all planned concieved and perpetrated in a concise order.
I am a living photo album!
My mind is a bucket collecting a dripping reality from the table of existence
My eyes like a camera catch a moment of a smeared world in an electric second.
Some one blow in my ears and clear away the dirt and dust laying quietly like Rip Van Winkle sleeping on my delicate thinking orb.
I am a jewel worth more then I thought.
we are all worth more, or?
Is the death of one depreciation for those that stick around…
Honeycomb daydreams, my thoughts are stinging like a bee
I’m floating in limbo, my body feels heavenly.
I’m sweating words from my fingertips
I’m crying pain from my eyes
My head throbs in agony
as my soul, burps, sighs……
What words can transcend that which is everything, that which is you?