Lingering Taste

      lingering taste

 Feeling crept into awareness, subtle flavor I nearly missed lingers on my tongue. Alone I stand starring at the mirror, my face starring back at me. Flushed red frowning, puffy anger clinging to cheeks like rusted barnacles, all this I feel from the emptiness surrounding me, when your not here.

My imagination is pulling away from reality so quickly. I am sure my mind is beginning to resemblance a dirty clothes hamper, tangled and rotting from within.

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There Was A Knock At The Door

[podcast]http://www.washthebowl.com/wp-content/uploads//2009/07/therewasaknockatthedoor.mp3[/podcast] Startled minds ramp into flaring comatose consciousness, jump starting sight, adjusting hearing, grabbing the one next to you, shaking her, wake up wake up something’s happening here. There was a knock at the door, a knock at the door, there was a knock at the door. Emotions spinning me into torrid thoughts, whirlpooling down …

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