B&B Write

Patiently held in time.

A Bed and Breakfast lives nestled against guardian trees – near a water’s edge.

Agelessly creaking as feet move through and pause.

Themed rooms reflect different light, casting moments.

Old world escapes the kitchen, changing fireplace air.

Refining pieces and capturing thoughts; quietly the compulsion unfolds.

Writer’s escape.

Learning to Kill

I don’t even remember the first Time that I did it.
It was no big deal, not like forming some kind of habit.
Over Time I did it a little more often, I quietly killed some.
Sometimes it was fun, mostly just doing it out of occasional boredom.

Suddenly one day I was driven to obsession.
Murdering in mass and serial slaughtering consumed me.
Death now burned my eyes as they opened in the early hours.

Random methods to choke, smother and drown Time became routine.
Driving the need to kill Time and feed my aging Dragon.

Phone Ghosts

My phone has traces of acquaintances, pets, friends and family who are no longer living.
No longer living here with us.

Their birthday’s pop-up as if to remind and say “Don’t forget me.”
Photos in the memory mix float around and surface at times, blending in with new experiences.

It is hard enough to say “Goodbye” in this life,
making [Delete] impossible.

So, My Collection Grows…