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The Blind Melody The first season of my life was all rainbows, butterfly's and sky.
Time was an endless thing, that I had rule over.
My friends were many, our laughter beginning every adventure.
The sun shone a bright yellow light, chasing away the shadows.
Many of the details of life were passed by, there was always more to see.
Music played but was completely ignored, all the things that passed before me were things of wonder.
In the next season, the world slowly became shrouded by fog.
Color was still there but shapes were starting to blend together.
There was no difference between a look of love or loathing.
The memory of what a smile had looked like faded.
My laughter still rang, time was still moving though I could no longer tell it.
The music had a tune, yet I was too busy squinting at the growing fog to pay it any mind.
The season that came next passed slowly, or was it quickly.
I had no way to tell.
The world had lost it's color in the fog.
Laughter stopped coming easily.
I could no longer n
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
[transmissions of a dead girl]i am the
moon: i am
the silver pill
to weigh down
into leaden eyes--
i am the
of the dark.
the stars are
all dead in their
you'll be safe, dear,
as i am the moon,
with all of your
(i am good bye and yet,
you think only of romantic
i am the moon.
i am the crescent
and dead altogether,
i still die.
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