singer-songwriter
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“I raise the sheet, I seek the moon, for shadows, thoughts, or signs— a whispered ‘I love you’ soon, to make the darkness mine.” (A Song) [Verse 1] It’s Monday evening now, I’ve scoured corners, bare and bleak— beneath the table’s shadowed bow, where dust and silence speak. Inside cracked vases, hollow, still,
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Luna, I’ve been an idiot. Not your garden-variety, forgot-to-buy-milk idiot, but a premium-grade, head-stuck-firmly-up-my-own-behind kind of idiot. These past months, especially this week, I’ve been about as present as a ghost at a party – technically there, but not really making an impact. Our talk today hit me like a cold shower at 5 AM.
BB Grey--musings 