Putting things together is something I do all the time
Lets me add all the nuances I think I need
Until I start to subtract by adding too much
So am I good at knowing when that happens? No, but when I do learn it, it will be a huge…
Viewing life through a gauzy sheet of emotions
Everything was fuzzy and slightly off color
It made things less scary and more comfy
Living that way also meant never really knowing what was real
Maybe it was too late in the day to do such things, but she tried to solve his riddle
Under the glow of a full moon, she contemplated what he had said and how he had said it
So many possibilities rattled around her cranium, demanding she fit the moving pieces together
Her head started to pound as she felt the pieces fly away, her ability to comprehend slowly devolving to…
Making things usually left his desk a little cluttered, and he loved to make stuff
Everything started within reach, but by the end, some of creative debris was in the other room
Someday he would learn to put everything back in its place when he was done with it
Still, he thought of his whole experience in terms of his need to be creative, not that the output was a chaotic…
Flickering lights were the first things he noticed as he awoke, dazed, confused, and hung over
Laying on the asphalt, he tried to roll off his back but found he couldn’t
As if he was stuck there by the hand of God, all he could see were
Strobing lights pulsating across the cloud-infested night sky
He began to cry when he heard his brother say, “Told you superglue would work.”
Viewing those things that were not there
It was the bane of her existence
She wanted to expose them and show others what they could not see
If only she was better at that than she was. Every time she tried; the figments fled
Organizing her chaotic thoughts, she decided to try a different trap this time
NaNoWriMo would be motivation to finally capture them inside her words
Couldn’t spend his money fast enough
All the things were needed, and they were needed yesterday
So when he went to check out, he was short the amount needed
He looked to his mom. She sighed and pulled out her credit card. Happy birthday?
Finding memories strewn along the river of life
Only they were not yours, but do you really care?
Remembering things that were almost true, but with a twist
Generating new recollections resonating inside your head
Echoing emotional reverberations
That fade to black as you wake up and begin to …
Putting more things on the other things
It kept getting taller and taller
Letting him get more and more excited
Except when it all came crashing down and down when Mom came in
Sometimes she didn’t know they were recording the conversation
Might have been a problem for a lot of people, but not for her
Others would hem and haw and stutter, but she was concise and clear
Others would say things they didn’t mean or didn’t want others to hear, she was honest and
That’s why she was happy the whole thing went to court
Here they would what she said in her own voice, and that voice said, “No.”
Stories and photos from Scotland
A paper-cut survivor
Abdi Mohammed
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
Sharing is Learning
AUTHOR
Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
The Official Home of Rolli - Author, Cartoonist and Songwriter
Never Short On Words 