Rocky_O

A year older.

A year wiser. 

Time slips out from my grasp like the oceans tides, 

Natural yet terrifying in the most nauseating way, 

I’m sick of growing up.

Love is felt most when its leaving 

We cry for what once was 

What could’ve been

For the people We once were 

Watching as it leaves

Weary eyes, and tired feet 

Oh, Bird, tell me how does it feel to float on wings of ivory and gold?
What is it like to have the world at your fingertips? 
Tell me of the world beyond these acres, 
Of the thrilling adventures in which you sing. 

My life has a soundtrack, bluesy rock that sounds like cooking with my grandfather on Sunday afternoons, mild indie rock that feels like cool fall air, and walking on pine needles, early 2000’s alternative that smells like cinnamon and my mothers

Arguments with the demon 

Traced on the landscape of a night in May 

Melancholic shadows, the gray of memory  

The enigma of truth, tangled with spectral whispers.




Lume of my mind,

Hazy hot days when the early morning dew disappeared long before sleepy eyes opened, the sun peaking through the window far too early.