Splintered Beams, Allow Forgotten Faces To seep into Restless Dreams; Wistful waking, As Sunlight traces Truth; The past Speaks Quietly Back, Through Introspect, To the inside; The Last Place You'd Think To Seek Tranquility- Enclosed Within Tattered Seams Of Restless Dreams; To find it there, Within.
imagine, if you will, that as the first four notes of Hits From The **** drift into consciousness, you see ahead, approaching fast, a beautiful upsweep of snow, a delicate cyclone that moves itself quickly from non-existence to existence and back.
a hungry man on the corner cinnamon graham crackers mom, tattoos, and tears... tears streaming for death past and death future. for life future. for life now. gramma. violet. a child laughing, laughing so hard she sounds utterly maddened. stories and lights and wax and wretched, wretched life.