TO BE CONTINUED

June 2016

Put to the music of:

Insight XIV by: Julien Marchal

We all have our stories.
And not in the plural meaning each of us getting one therefore making a compilation of many, 
but more each one having thousands.
A symphony of stories one might say.
A lifetime compilation of our attempts at survival.
We compare and contrast.

Seeing which ones are the key defining who it is we are.
We may find that we start writing about each other,
stuck in a dream and reality.
A rock and a hard place,
become part fiction and non fiction.
Addicted to the friction of flipping through our own pages.
Not picking up on where it is we are going,
or where it is we're writing.
Somewhere we went off course
try to follow the lines off the page.
Cut your skin to shed some ink.
Rip out your tongue from trying to speak

so many times that you bury yourself in the paper.
A coffin lined with happy endings.
Maybe a bedtime story to help you sleep at night.
Try so hard to believe we are writing a romance novel,
but the fear it builds up causes enough adrenaline to make even the strongest heart stop.
Maybe we can fake this waltz,
until our metaphors run out of stardust. 
Show us some sign why it is we're in this cycle again and again and again.
I've made it clear I don't know where we're going.
Still holding onto where I feel it is we can freeze time.
Feel the sweat on your palm press into mine as we try to point in the direction of this plot line.
Lead me into your sky.
Each word slipping off your tongue,

I can taste the remarks better than i've ever heard them.
I want you to burn me alive.
Keep me as hot as the stars in our skies.
And maybe our reflection can show us where we lie
And finally, we can start to

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