| I write of loves-to-be and anger that is, and even if I don't understand myself, it's always nice when you do. |


WitherWither: verb. to die. to decay. what a flower does when she sees her honeybee pollinating that hussy of a daffodil next door. what an old woman does after her husband craps out on her. what an actress does while artfully drying her tears. Men (apparently) don't wither. unless you're talking about their skin. (wither. and dry out.)Wither


The sound of loveHis words are legato,The sound of love
as he whispers
iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou but your words are
staccato i. love. you. i. love. You. i. love. you. together you are a symphony of discord
the crickets play their violin legs
silky smooth as he says
iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou.
The frogs voice croaks low as a tuba and your pulse is being drummed by the trees i. love. you. i. love. you.
When you listen all you can hear is
Off notes and
Off tempos and
Off off off
&n


The sounds of life and deathA woman screams to let you know your baby boy is hereThe sounds of life and death
A draft makes protests to let you know Its war you have to fear
The horn rings
to let you know of triumph in the war
The bell tolls
to let you know your loved one is no more


Melodic acousticsThe base is pounding Filling your head with it's say All lost but the beatMelodic acoustics
Crushed by tranquility From the brink, I send my love Last acoustic rifts.


Exotic PlacesYou think of these Exotic Places Capitalized, just like that Exotic PlacesExotic Places
You used to think Exotic Places
Was a real place, with real people And unicorns.
Because Unicorns are important to a growing girls health
When you talked about growing up That time between the end of school And turning 30 or so
Because 30 is so old (gross!)
When you spoke of it, you spoke of Exotic Places And how you would get married And go to sleep one night Then the next the stork would come with a baby To reward you for finding


Why do you singWhy do you call, raven, if your song is not as beautiful as the robinsWhy do you sing
He tilts his head to the side, watching her with one eye The feathers along his spine Ruffle Overlapping one another, fighting in the winter chill To keep his furless body warm His feet pulled close to him on the branch
He blinks rapidly, and throws back his head, contemplating And
Says
Why do you walk, girl, if you are not as graceful as a dancer?
Why is it you speak, miss, if your voice isnt as powerful as a drum?
Why is it you laugh, girl, if you are not as
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A band directors biggest lie - One more again!
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Come visit my gallery!
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I live in a fictional world, make friends with fictional people. I say fictional words, and think fictional thoughts. But never do I eat fictional food. It all tastes like paper.
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Come visit my gallery!
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