measures & scales.

Now I know it's not the player but the music that I miss.

chances.

oh, but I am just a dreamer wearing sensible shoes
and I still dream in colour even though I sing the blues.

the moon and the owl.

before they think of every endeavor
be it bright or be it subtle light
night and its insides sprawl across
the blue horizon
adding only black
to the face of a serious pale sky.

we're proof of it.

my life without you
is an endless wait in a medical office waiting room --
sterile, ornateless --
not lonely exactly, but filled
with crying children and miserable adults.
A room without a doctor,
a prescription,
or even a diagnosis,
just hour upon hour
of emptiness without end.
There is no solution for this kind of wait;
no absolution.

A ticking clock on the wall,
a spotless floor, a large window.
I'm attempting to settle
into this new reality
like a home.

redhead.

what does she mean she don't need the proof of my failure?