I don't remember how it felt to touch you. I don't remember my hands on your skin. Casting my mind back seems ineffective, I just end up here; alone again. There's no knowledge of your face, or ministrations. There's no sense of the smell of your hair. My mind has lost some critical detail; … Continue reading Overexposed
Tag: memories
To Kill a Memory
Don’t think of me, of how I was, or how I might be. Don’t remember, blue and violet shadow days, escaping the sun on soft, green grass, dappled with spotlights passing between the leaves. Take the thought of me and kill it. Dig it real deep and bury it. Find the darkest part of … Continue reading To Kill a Memory
Time + Space
I'm sure that there are words to describe this feeling, but I just can't seem to grasp them right now. We are so far apart, it doesn't matter what I say. I call out, but you don't hear me. I guess I could have sent you letters; sent pictures of who I am and … Continue reading Time + Space
Summer Sun Shower
Snapshots of summer days; rain falling crystalline from a cloudless sky. Children laugh and splash about in purple, polka-dot galoshes, singing songs only understood by the initiated. The grown ups seek shelter; rolling up newspapers and rushing inside, with half hearted instructions for their kids to follow, knowing their orders will be ignored. … Continue reading Summer Sun Shower
Memories and The Smell of Gasoline
I am here, in the place where fate resides. A waste of time, or just erasing mine? A clean slate, another state of mind. I have lost direction, must have missed a sign. I got caught up for a minute in your grand design. Didn't see that I had missed my ride. Only for … Continue reading Memories and The Smell of Gasoline
You, God and The Weatherman
. My hands are no longer steady. My pistols sit in decorative cases, long unused. There was a time that we would roam far and wide, beyond the confines of our eyesight, but now the night brings only hunger and regret. My old Ford would make the trip through the country, into the city and … Continue reading You, God and The Weatherman
Bastards
No cover, no bigger rush. No other, so much for this shit. There lies the favor, love her or hate her, here is your saviour; shrouded in malcontents. Sit and wonder how I stand, what I've done with my own hands. Draw out this distorted love, where is the one that I dream of? … Continue reading Bastards
Heals All Wounds
So many scars on my body from the past, that's all done and over now healing sleep as it comes. So many years, now all in the past, been burning and cutting, the learning that lasts. Come through, now Heaven and Hell lay behind. No forward vision the future is blind. This is … Continue reading Heals All Wounds
A Hero is Born
Born to huddle, hushed, under warm blankets. Rain hammers and thunder drums. Flashlight beams slay monsters. Mom’s magic chocolate chip cookies inspire sufficient bravery for exploring paper dungeons and saving a beautiful princess. A hero is born. HG – 2016
Way Back When
Remember, oh, so long ago; when what was wanted fed the lust for life? You and I searched out each other, sleep we'd seek, under cover. Waning want conceals the deepest pain. So it was when we were, now I'm left with burned out images of her. Make it want, so it feels, so it … Continue reading Way Back When
Drinking With My Dark Past…. And Loving It!
I gather all my specters from the deep waters and sing songs to long gone wisps of memory that once held me in chains. We drink deeply of melancholic elixirs, imbibing of the dear lost ones; while predicting with drunken certainty things still to happen. I have some very rambunctious skeletons. They have never stayed … Continue reading Drinking With My Dark Past…. And Loving It!
Death of a Way of Unliving
And so it begins, as one of me dies another takes its place. As torn limbs and loves grow stronger amidst my own demise. I wandered through the ruins, trying to descry what I had been. Here and there a shaded memory survives. I know if I disturb them they'll dissolve. … Continue reading Death of a Way of Unliving
Pieces of An Old Memory
I, might have been wrong, you see, yesterday's still with me. Old, broken sad songs, sung by the light in the street. Come back to me all you memories let go I don't need to try, I remember you anyway. Some things they die and others they grow, but love like this, it stays … Continue reading Pieces of An Old Memory