| Posted in , , , , | Posted on 12:50 AM


There is a nip in the air tonight.
Outside it’s cold; my throat is sore,
And I miss you. I miss you more
Than you can imagine, alright—
The tides of time don’t swing my way;
I will wait yet another day.


I challenged myself to write and record a song in one day. Beginning at about 12 last night,
I wrote and recorded about 2 and a half minutes. I could've recorded more, but I was really tired, so I wrote a sestet instead. Hope you like it. The song should be done in a day or two (provided I do work, that is); hope you'll like that too.


Remnants [Fiction 55]

| Posted in , , , | Posted on 3:37 AM


I bump into you again—
Remnants of what remain
Are scattered, haphazardly
On the ground, on you and me.

Nobody picks them; they lie
There transfixed, silently.
There are too many to count;

None of us any peace found,
And none of us said goodbye:

Pieces lie there awhile, and die.


18th Fiction 55.

I'm officially back, bitches. Time to start blogging again. B)