Tears run all over my face.
Not hearing words.
Words fry the beauty of the soul.
There are people who have been where I am.
I listen over and over,
wishing I had words like they have music.
I am a potted plant stuck in a cold, dark garage.
Hearing the Music from Souls Desperate to Communicate
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Blog: Stillfugue Topics:Fiction, Poetry, Essays
stillfugue 
#1 by Evelyn on March 9, 2011 - 8:50 pm
“Words fry the beauty of the soul.
There are people who have been where I am.”
sigh, really? do you think they do?
well I am f*cked then because all ‘s I got is words…
#2 by Carl on March 9, 2011 - 8:59 pm
LOL – No, they don’t. In good hands such as yours, they are wonderful. Lyrics in songs can distract from what is really good about the music.
#3 by kolembo on March 10, 2011 - 2:04 am
Superb. Absolutely. Clean, clear sight. Absolutely. Burst it, why donca. Excellent.
#4 by Carl on March 10, 2011 - 6:48 am
Oh, my, those are great words from you, K! Thank you, good sir!
#5 by heather grace stewart on March 10, 2011 - 10:10 am
Excellent imagery. Wow.
#6 by Carl on March 10, 2011 - 8:38 pm
Thank you, Heather!