acousticlemon
A morning song creeps throguh the grimy blinds of the old motel and greets her ears, a welcome noise. Her employer lays naked and sound asleep in the dirty bed to her left.
The moon breathed heavily as it told the sun to rise. "Fall" said the old man on the hill." Life askew, hallucinatory epiphanies of death.
the overhanging trees are our roof, they keep us safe from the rain as we lay naked in the grass.
I couldn't tell if the loathing I felt when I looking into your eyes was for you, or my own reflection.
Under the moon, she sits bare, if only just a metaphor for her openness, but the moon is the only eye that watches her.
overjoyed... I can't write about a word that represents everything I wish to feel, but haven't for a long time. boredom, lonliness, and unsatisfied love for another continue to weigh down on me