Name Those Songs...

1. Ain't it a shame? A shame that every time you hear my name brought up in a casual conversation you can't think straight? And ain't it sad? You can forget about what we had take a look at her and do you like what you see or do you wish it was me?

2. She's got eyes that cut you like a knife and lips that taste like sweet red wine and pretty legs go to heaven every time she got a gentle way that puts me at ease when she walks in the room I can hardly breathe got a devastating smile knock a grown man to his knees.

3. You were hanging your feet off the tailgate of Billy Don's Ford I grew up in this little bitty town never seen you before you were swaying in the moonlight while the radio played and I've, I've had that song in my head all day, yeah
It was a sweet southern soulful thing that got me down deep you caught me staring at you but you smiled back at me you started slinging that air guitar Man, you sure can play and I've had that song in my head all day.

Let The Rain Fall....

The fat wet drops bounced off her skin as hot salty tear stung her warm cheeks. The pounding music filled her ears with a sense of dread as he fight that she knew was about to begin rattled her bones like the thunder that rolled through the sky, the anger in them a cruel reminder that hatred thickened the small cab of the cherry red truck she sat captive in awaiting the moment of the spark that will ignite the fire of anger. Her muscles tensed in weary preparation for the war about to begin in which she knew she was the culprit. Why couldn't she be the perfect person she wanted to be. Why was she the one to always screw up? Why would a woman who hurt them all the time and be mean to them get all of their love and understanding and forgiveness when the woman who trys to do everything for them doesn't seem to be doing enough. Maybe she's doing all the wrong stuff. Maybe she needs to fail at everything that she's doing and start doing everything that she's doing wrong right. Maybe an angel would come down and help her fix herself or take her and take her from this confusing would and teach her what she needs to know to be perfect. It would be heavenly to be able to please all that she loved for no more wars would erupt. She could get everything under control. She could control the mind that wanders from the real world and into a world of overwhelming emotions and thoughts. They swirl around in her head you know. Those emotions. They yell at her, anger, Love, saddness. They eat away at her head and cause her to blank out. The nexk thing she knows the world is crashing down around her and she's in the center of the unforgiving black hole that is consuming that is which her heart.

And then she wakes up...

Do I belong?

A message in a bottle is all it takes. One look and your hooked. Searching for the sender, like a lover long lost. Who knew that so many emotions could be bottled up into on tiny body. The heat of lust and love flames through out my veins like a lava flow frozen in time by an icy stare. The moan of the rocking chair echos in my head along with teh rhythmic tap tap tap of the keyboard keys as I type out my thoughts. Cars speeding by are the story of my life, one zoom for each stupid emotion that found its way into my heart. Why I feel the way I do I don't know, though I do know that deep down inside that's how I'm ment to feel, that it's how the Goddess wants to me to feel.

Maybe I need to go bask in the comforting silver rays of the moon, that always cheers me up... Though when she's covered by the milky clouds I want to cry from the beauty that they hide. I wish the moon would answer me sometimes. I hear her song in my heart as I look up to her and her stars, listening to thier stories as I stand beneath them taking it all in. They twinkle so beautifully and it makes me wonder if there is another girl, just like me standing underneath all her stars staring up at them and wondering, 'what is my purpose?' Why am I so drawn to the moon and everything that involves her. Hekate's wolves are heard on the breeze. Was that a twig snapping? Is the goddess finally coming to claim her lost child?

My Escape.

I constantly find myself fleeing from the polluted and chaotic domain known as the Real World, to a place in my mind where fiction and fantasy thrive and feed into a forest of imagination. A world where a forbidden love between a General and a Spy flourish to satisfy my insatiable lust for creativity. A river flows through my world, a river where the blood of vampires flows from their kings whom has struck down his own kind to protect and serve the woman he has come to love, as he watched her grow from a child. The same river where a majestic pack of Lycans drink their water as they live their day to day lives, protecting the ones they have come to love dearly, and learn that life isn't always fair. Music feeds my imagination is ways that only the Gods could understand, where my Muses play on the strings of fate, plucking away a tune that only I can dance too. The rhythm of my heart beats through out my body moving my soul in ways that never seemed possible. Love and Lust, Hate and Greed swirl about the moon in mystic waves of hypnosis, drawing in the heart of the simple woman who looks upon it in tides of yearning. The flight of a bird sets in motion the feeling of want, a want to run free with the horses of temptation, to beat hooves of emotion into mother earth herself. Where climbing a mountain is a task that only the bravest of beings may make it else succumb to the battle of the elements in a bloody fight to the end. The simplest tasks invoke creativity where folding laundry becomes a brawl to the death with a pirate capture.
My world is where I can transform myself into anything my heart desires. A spell weaver with a habit to cast the wrong spell. A simple drive in the car will turn me into the worlds most wanted criminal, fleeing for her life from the suffocating fist of the government she lives in, to find the man that she loves, who was captured.

But then again this is just my mind, my internal world of emotion where I can crawl into at night and play myself to sleep.

And when the urge to dance to the rhythm of fate beats to the temple of my pulse, I'll give into the urge and dance, because life, is short. And although mistakes are made through out life they are made for a reason, because without those mistakes we wouldn't be who we are today.