I leave voicemails as chapters for the only one that can make sense of it all. An S.O.S. to all that I have left.
I'm not sure why I fight daylight at times... and sunset at others. 3 ups and 3 downs. It's on the 7th that I look myself in the mirror. Do the math with me. It lets me know that I'm not where I'm supposed to be. Sunday or someday. These are my seven days of the week. Lose a syllable or two and sorrow becomes tomorrow.
She's a diamond and doesn't even know it. I heart her via billboards in Times Square.
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We will forever be a community of writers asking you to fall in (love) or be taken (hostage.) We only want to make you smile, and encourage you to pick up the pen, or start using those fingers on your keyboard!
