Voice Speaking

Originally posted on Patrice Clarkson's Blog:
Voice speaking, crying out Saying things needed Feeling all alone Desperate to know the answer Seeking to be free Of ties changing, dragging thee. Voice may be loud Sounding almost like a horn Blowing breath, scattering every way Or soft and mellow Holding dreams inside Being safe, secure today.…

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– ashtabula county –

A sky painted with the most grey of clouds, I passed through northern country, land off of the lake, following the birth of spring. As the antiquated roads twisted and intertwined underneath my wheels, I attempted to look for meaning in the surrounding land. Kingsville, Jefferson, Austinburg, Dorset… covered bridges, creeks, charming main streets, cut down fields… […]

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– was not meant to be –

Quick, fluttering peeks behind towers of boxes… eavesdropping on all your quips as sly as foxes… stalking you online in the name of all things wrong… guaranteed I wasted my time now that you’re gone. Maybe I wanted a simple daybreak, creating a real delusion so fake, not that there was a chance in the first place […]

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