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    Cannon Hyche wrote about the word preoccupied 1 year, 7 months ago

    Mind locked in place,
    No key for ignition.
    Sit back, sit back
    Sit back, dont
    Run away.
    You arent yourself.
    Sit back, sit back
    Sit back, dont
    Leave me.

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    Cannon Hyche wrote about the word concern 1 year, 8 months ago

    My concern is left in the dust of your ravaged mind.
    Off.
    Off to that desolate path on gravel covered earth where trees stood before.
    and at the end theres a pecan tree.
    Tire swing.
    White walls,
    White soul.

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    Cannon Hyche wrote about the word account 1 year, 8 months ago

    I account for all my lost things.
    Trinkets from here or there.
    I stow them in a special place.
    Somewhere deep in this soul,
    And there they will sit unnoticed.

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    Cannon Hyche posted an update: 1 year, 8 months ago

    Rally the organ donors,
    Rally the street pianists,
    Rally the now few broken,
    And throw a fucking party.

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    Cannon Hyche wrote about the word rally 1 year, 8 months ago

    Rally the organ donors,
    Rally the street pianists,
    Rally the now few broken,
    And throw a fucking party.

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    Cannon Hyche wrote about the word hover 1 year, 8 months ago

    Your mind hovers so far above your body that you cant even breathe.
    Or at least whatever breath you have gets taken by her beauty.
    You bathe in her amber light.
    Not in all the shades of blue could she ever be less beautiful.

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    Cannon Hyche wrote about the word avenue 1 year, 8 months ago

    Lay down.
    The avenue breathes with me.
    Take in this deep amber life,
    If theres any left.
    For whats in this world is done.

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    Cannon Hyche wrote about the word sinking 1 year, 9 months ago

    And heres the sinking feeling.
    There goes the pressure.
    You feel it in your ears.
    The tiny pop that ripples everything you are.
    Epiphany from hell.

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    Cannon Hyche wrote about the word near 1 year, 9 months ago

    It seems so near,
    But perception holds me in its icy grip,
    Like frosted glass against your chest.
    Like a breath of frozen air.
    Like reality.

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    Cannon Hyche wrote about the word brick 1 year, 9 months ago

    One brick after the other.
    It forms a wall.
    A wall that blocks your view of sanity.
    A wall that you think keeps everything out,
    But really,
    It keeps you in.

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    Cannon Hyche wrote about the word wings 1 year, 9 months ago

    With wings of an eagle
    She climbs to new heights.
    Far above the tree line, but
    There I sit.
    Fall comes, and my colors fade.
    I just watch from a distance.