Title: Your way through things
by Richard from Cheshire | in writing, fiction
Look, all the broken hearted Kings and Queens of vices, the children of selfishness, washed up on a shore. The night barking wind through my body, the bedsheets clutching my legs, my pillow fiery with discomfort. It was here we gave into my heart. My desperation. There can be no sorrow when the nightingale chimes in our halls. When worry bursts over you like a saturated cloud. Like an angel dying, crying for its wings. The sea of light out the window's so deep in colour I'm vacantly staring at it. I'm swimming through it'
I want her wings back.
My inspiration for this piece was Joan Baez' lyrics for her songs. Her lyrics are quite beautiful, and she provokes a lot of self reflection with very intelligent, small sentences outlining the irony of life.
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