Powerful denizens of the dark, black, cocoa, pushing, pushing, and I felt like I could've lost it at any time, like anything could have flown apart. I could have misplaced a leg, or an arm. Anything as crazy as that was plausible last night.
I hope she didn't show. If she did, I'm dead. That's all there is to it. That's not really all, but it's a good deal of it. Good deal. Don't don't, good deal me. Athena, grey-eyed goddess above all else, please, if I'm here, make the way like I might have spoken it once as so; a story I told neath a drought of my own self. Those footsteps would be worthy ones, happy to a degree, and fulfilling to the gills.
The chain hung low to the ground,
the railing long gone with rust
Some were awakened by the sound,
as the lever to move was quickly thrust.
Some sparks let fly,
not one did try,
to hold on tho that train.
Nothing now, nothing.
On Xmas of 1992 my brother gave me this journal made of recycled paper with a twig pencil. I eventually filled it up sporadically up to 1995. I dug it out, dusted it off, and started looking through it today, May 6th, 2013. I've decided to reproduce the posts online. It's raw and sure to be embarrassing, but I feel enough time has passed that I can distance myself, yet find a very familiar me within these lines and perhaps find the inspiration to take up the pen again..... Thanks, big Bro.
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