You know, I saw this prompt while speaking on the phone To a friend. And while I so very much agree That life away from the screen is, well, critical for us I considered, briefly, what I would have missed that day Without my phone.
Love of mine, someday you will die But I'll be close behind and I'll follow you into the dark No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white Just our hands clasped so tight, waiting for the hint of a spark
In an attempt to delete an audio recording that I wasn't satisfied with, I ended up deleting the post as whole thinking it meant deleting the changes I had made previously. My bad. This is just a repost, where nothing has changed from the original. My apologies for causing any confusion.
I was sitting among tiny green blades of grass, listening to a chaotic symphony of loudspeakers and bubbling voices.
a song. i'm worried that i stole the melody from somewhere but i don't think i did, i think i just took inspiration from somewhere. anyways. hope it's all right. i want to make it a little less chunky and transition from section to section better. and i should really just permanently turn down the glock...
I stood at the tip of the dock looking out over that salty water.
The fog had come slowly that morning, seeping into the harbor and quietly covering the shore.
Mussle gathering at noontime was raw and wet. The chilled water numbed my fingers until feeling no longer pulsed through them and blood flowed easily from popped blisters, earned yestrday while chopping wood.
the trees in the orchard are more ripe with children than they are with apples. fragile branches expose themselves to be limbs of limber youth, elbows protruding like gnarls on a tree, knees scarred like dimpled bark. if you aren't too careful you'll end up snagging a ruby red sneaker instead of a crisp macintosh. you may want to pick apples but the children want to stand on the bow of a well-crafted ship