the stories you tell
haunt me
long after your shadow…
Stories
Hey. Aren’t we getting close to where the bridge is supposed to be?…
The heroine is in love with a smoldering-eyed, brooding hero…
It feels like starving,
in a weird way,
to have stories trying to work themselves free…
The last thing I want,
is to wake up one day,
with a pile of stories…
I’ve never had a doubt,
that I wanted to tell stories,
that I wanted to create new things…
Adrift at sea,
water far as the eyes,
can dare to dream…
The well of stories,
of verses,
of lines on the page…
how weird is it really
that we always look for truth in stories
even when we know
I wonder sometimes, to whose benefit, these things are actually going toward, I dunno really, but it’s certainly, […]
Daily Poets 