Fiction, Friday Music Prompt, History, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Relationship, Religion/Morality

Music Prompt: Teegan’s Potion – Part 3: Teegan’s Potion and His Passion (Rated R) #fiction #paranormal #romance #amwriting


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for Friday’s music prompt, “I Don’t Want To Talk About It” by Rod Stewart. The song is loosely used in part three. Warning Part Three contains Adult Content. 

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“I Don’t Want To Talk About It” – Rod Stewart

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http://www.pinterest.com

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Tallia drove back to Fairy Dust as fast as her Vespa would take her without losing the giant fish off the Vespa’s back compartment. She was feeling afraid because she knew Teegan would be nearly awake, but felt certain he would be in enough of a fog she would have time to make the potion he required. She prayed the tonic took his darkness away, the shadow that stalked him. But at the same time Tallia knew, the shadow was Teegan.

The presence of darkness lurked as Tallia quietly opened the back door, slipping inside her shop. She set the goldfish in his bag, down on a countertop and stood for a moment blinking tiredly. It was the middle of the afternoon and a wave of fatigue overwhelmed her. She had been up late thinking about Teegan, what he could have possibly done hundreds of years ago to be cursed so wickedly. She was thinking about him in other ways too, Tallia realized blushing.

She wasn’t sure what she’d do if Teegan knew she’d drugged him, what he’d say or do. She didn’t know how much in control Teegan was of his darkness right now. The wisest thing Tallia could do was make him his potion whenever he needed it, whatever kind of potion it was. She thought about the wisdom Teegan hopefully acquired in his centuries alive. Would it make him extra understanding?

Then again, she could be wrong. Some people never learned their lessons despite experience. Yet Tallia was sure, in Teegan’s startling green eyes had been knowledge of dark deeds and lessons learned with difficulty. The blackness in his gaze almost had the affect of repelling Tallia at first.

At the same time, his emerald eyes were seductive and drew her too Teegan. No matter his real age, he appeared to be in his thirties. He was ridiculously good looking in the truest sense. She could smell his particular pleasing scent from where she leaned against the counter in the back of her store. Where she put together potions and caste spells for magical items customer’s required.

Perhaps, it was her heightened sense of smell which brought to life Teegan’s addictive scent, or maybe her memories were more vivid due to her attraction to him.

Tallia jumped when a voice whispered in her ear.

——-

“Where’d you go? How come my potion’s not made? I need it now Tallia,” he whispered.
“Teegan?”

“Yep, I’m awake, thanks for the nap by the way. Did you find out what you needed too? I see you got the giant gold fish. You’re worried about me and the shadow around me which makes you sick. You went and talked to Jude. He’s been around over a century. Old for most humans, but not as old as me, Tallia.”

“I didn’t talk to Jude, he’s in the hospital because he had a stroke and isn’t doing well,” Tallia sad with sadness.” I talked to his great-grandson Aspen. He run’s the store now I guess. He said you were cursed, that you did something terrible. That’s why you’ve so much darkness. How do you make it go away Teegan? What happens if you don’t take this potion?”

Tallia felt warm and comfortable and realized Teegan had moved to hold her from behind, his arms crossed against her stomach. Teegan’s head suddenly lay against hers and she could feel him sigh as if he could finally relax. Tallia had never been so near to Teegan, she felt dizzy in good way. It felt wonderful to be held so gently, though she wondered if Teegan realized he had moved to comfort her.

——

Moments later, Tallia felt Teegan’s lips firmly on the side of her neck, traveling up under her ear and sucking gently on her earlobe. His lips moved back down her neck to the v-neck of her sweater. He kissed her over her heart and Tallia shivered when his lips traced her neck, went over her chin, and landed on her lips. Her heart was racing, she felt hot and cold all over.

Teegan bit her lip gently, seeking access to her mouth. His tongue met hears with need. Tallia couldn’t think, could only feel. Her connection with Teegan was something new to her. This sense of knowing him and recognizing him, beyond the physical sense. In her mind, she could feel him encouraging her to relax.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispered.

Teegan kissed Tallia until she was breathless, his hands massaging her stomach, sides, and hips. His hand moved up to squeezing her breast over her sweater and short coat. She moaned when he broke off his the kiss leaving Tallia wanting. He breathed in the crook of her neck, his hand not moving, but not leaving either. It seemed as if hours had passed but it had only been minutes.

Teegan collected himself and moved a distance from Tallia as he spoke: “Tallia, I can’t. I want to, but I shouldn’t have done that; it confused you. I need you to make my potion now please. You’re the only one who can do it. It has to be one of your bloodline. And if you don’t I’ll turn evil. I’ll be a curse myself, a terrible man. I’ve done such evil because I’m cursed, or was before your gifted ancestor came up with this potion. It’s the only way to keep me from turning, Tallia. You and I, we’re tied together because of your ancestor. You remind me of her,” Teegan remarked.

“You need to tell me the entire story. This isn’t fair Teegan. Of course, I’ll make the potion. But my Aunt never told me any of this. The cancer took her a way in so little time. I need more answers from you,” Tallia pleaded.

I don’t want to talk about it Tallia. Make the potion. You’re breaking my heart here,” Teegan said rolling his eyes.

“What if I don’t?”

“I’ll be evil, as I’ve said and as I’m sure Aspen told you. I’ll hurt you, probably kill you, and I don’t want to do that. If I kill you, I’ll be evil forever — until someone kills me. You’re the last in your line. Make the potion, Tallia, we could be happy.”

“We?”

“Tallia, make it now! You know I’m not trying to deceive you. You can feel it.”

“Yes, you’re right. I do feel you’re being genuine. I’ll make it as fast I can.”

——

Tallia gathered all the ingredients she had laid out earlier and brought them to an extremely large mixing bowl. She measured all the ingredients into the bowl quickly and accurately, barely thinking. She followed the directions in Aunt Willow’s tome and chanted the right words when she needed to say them. Pouring out the water of the giant gold fish’s bag in a sink, she slid the giant flopping gold fish into her bowl. With wide eyes she watched the potion simmer and turn scarlet.

Aspen had been right, the goldfish was a sacrifice of life. Although a mouse or anything small would’ve done the job, but her ancestor’s writing said the giant goldfish was preferred. Tallia strained the chunks of ingredients from the mixture; the goldfish had disintegrated.

Tallia pulled a beer stein out of her cupboard to Teegan’s surprise. She poured half of the scarlet liquid into the earthen beer stein. Teegan had been watching Tallia create the potion the entire time. He hadn’t said anything, only watched her, familiar with her actions. He’d probably watched her Aunt Willow and her Great-Aunt do the same. And many of Tallia’s ancestors, if she could believe his story.

She turned around from the giant bowl and found Teegan beside her, leaning against the counter studying her. His hand moved, pushing her light purple-grey hair behind her ear. He was so much taller than her, Tallia thought.

Teegan smiled when she offered him the beer stein.”Where’s yours?”he asked her.

“Where’s my what?”

Your half of the potion? You have to drink it with me,” Teegan told her.

Tallia was about to protest but he was gazing at her in a particular way. She noticed the pain usually hidden in his eyes present. She felt it through her being and it softened her heart; her protests crumbled.

” I wish I wasn’t so intuitive, Teegan. You do really need me to drink your tonic with you? Do you promise I’ll be okay?”

“I promise. Your Aunt, she was always fine. You’ll find it invigorating actually,” he said.

Tallia nodded reading what Teegan had told her in the tome beside her on the counter. How did she miss that direction? Peering up she noticed him pouring her a beer stein of the remaining liquid. She took the potion from him, grimacing because she knew the ingredients in it. She tasted a bit of the potion, testing the flavour. It tasted like cinnamon and a woodsy red wine. How could that be? 

“Bottoms up?” Teegan said holding up his stein.

Talia clinked her stein with his, “Slainte,” she said.

—–

Teegan’s potion was easy going down. Tallia could feel a lightness, as if her cares were floating free. She felt energy, Teegan was right. His potion did feel invigorating. Her mind felt intensely perceptive as well. Swallowing the remenants of the liquid she saw Teegan had already finished his.

“Better, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s amazing stuff,” she said peering everywhere, everything around her was completely crystal clear. Her early fatigue was gone. Tallia noticed Teegan’s dark circles had faded. He appeared younger, his few wrinkles smoothed out. He was gazing at her again in certain way, and she knew from the flicker in his green-eyes what he wanted. Tallia felt almost drunk, except the potion made everything feel real.

She laughed aloud and Teegan frowned,”What?”

“No you’re not getting that from me,” she said.

“It wasn’t difficult to get a kiss and more from you before. You like me. I can tell, I like you too,” Teegan said, eyes darkening and meeting her own.

“No,” Tallia said laughing again. “You have to earn it. Take me out. Tell me about yourself and my ancestors. Did you sleep with one of my great- great – female relatives?”

“Don’t you feel like you’re burning up inside? I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t . . .” he said approaching Tallia, following her as if she were prey. “I slept with the first of your ancestors I knew, she was my .  . .  my woman, for a while. But she died and we never had a child.”

Tallia backed away from Teegan smiling, wary but turned on at the same time. He was irresistible and Tallia found herself trapped against a wall. She laughed more as Teegan stripped off his shirt and unbuckled his belt. Her mouth ran dry seeing his finely sculpted body. He grinned and grabbed both her hands, holding her hands above her head. Tallia whimpered and Teegan chuckled.

“I’m not, I’m not a one night type of girl and you’re . . . you smell so good. But you’ve lived so much longer than me, what could you possibly see in me,” she murmured.

“You’re not one night Tallia.  I was thinking many many and I see you’re beautiful and gifted; you’re also intelligent.You didn’t immediately trust me.”

“Okay . . .” Tallia began but Teegan’s lips roughly met hers and she gasped as his tongue invaded sliding against hers. His hands were everywhere beneath her shirt and bralette. Then her shirt and bralette were gone and his mouth was there and she couldn’t contain her cries. “Oh no . . .”

He removed his mouth breathing hard, “Stop?”

“Oh please no!” Tallia said.

He chuckled and continued loving her with his mouth. “Teegan . . .” she whispered, feeling her body melt into his.

He pulled off the rest of her clothes, kissing her slightly round stomach and turning her around to kiss Tallia all over back and to her surprise, over her hips and bottom. His fingers found her center and rubbed below, circling her sweet spot, his thumb pressing against her.

“Please please. . .”

Teegan kissed her bottom again and turned her around so his head was level with Tallia’s belly button. He kissed her stomach before thrusting two fingers into her core, she shook and nearly screamed. It hurt but it was okay because the pleasure of his fingers going in and out of her was intense. She wailed when his fingers took her over the edge.

He kissed her, his lips and tongue centered on her core. The sensations Tallia felt were indescribable. Teegan was teasing her, he knew she need to come again but wasn’t letting her; he was making her wait for him. Teegan removed the rest of his clothes and gently lifted Tallia’s body onto the counter. He pushed both his fingers inside her again, adding a third.

“I’ve never . . .” she whispered suddenly shy.

“At your age? I’m flattered, no one values that these days,” Teegan whispered.

Tallia flushed, “Well it’s complicated. It’s gone but, I never had sex.”

“What do you mean?” Teegan asked stopping. His voice sounded grim.

Don’t stop, don’t,” Tallia begged.

“Okay, but I will kill whoever did it to you,” he promised.

Tallia believed Teegan, he appeared dead serious even though they were having sex.”It’s fine,” she mumbled. “It was a university party. I was too drunk and fell asleep and he was there sometime. When I woke up he was gone and I hurt,” Tallia admitted anxious for Teegan to continue loving her.

“Are you okay, are . . .”

“Please don’t, don’t stop. Please I need you.”

Teegan nodded, understanding. “You’ve got me,” he replied.He guided himself to her entrance and gently pushed inside.

“Okay?”

“Good, more.” Tallia said gripping his sides until Teegan was completely inside her. It stung and hurt but it was also the best feeling she could imagine when he began to move. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he whispered dirty things in her ear, all the things he wanted to do to her.

She felt his rhythm increase and her own body released again, more powerfully this time. She felt the final pushes of him in her body as he came. Teegan breathed heavily, holding Tallia and kissing her forehead.

Then, Tallia was crying, amazed tears were falling down her face. But Teegan gently hushed her and kissed her tears. It was hard for her to believe Teegan could ever be an evil monster. Tallia needed to know more about his past, when he was ready to tell her; she hoped it was soon.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: The Funkey Monkey in The Funky Munky #amwriting #flashfiction #magic


Thank you to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW. 

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TJ. Paris

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The Funky Munky was a magic shop owned by Velma. She lived in the first apartment, above her shop. 

Curtis walked into Velma’s shop one night, he was hallucinating and ill. “Please help me,” he begged, “I think I’ve been poisoned and I’m going to die.”

Velma felt his forehead: “You’ve come to the right place. You’ve been poisoned and I can help you for a favour in return.” 

“Anything.” 

Velma began to add liquids to a glass. She handed the ‘potion’ to Curtis who downed it and passed-out; he awoke the next morning on a couch.

“Do you feel better?” Velma asked him.

“Yeah, I feel fantastic. What did you give me?” Curtis said.

“A Funky Monkey,” Vera said smiling.”It contained Banana Liquor, White Rum, Malibu Rum, Pineapple Juice, and magic dust.” 

 “It was a drink, not a potion?” 

” You were poisoned Curtis. The drink was magical and removed the poison from your body, hydrated you, and made you sleep deeply.” Velma said.

“It’s my favourite alcoholic drink, Curtis. I became ill because I drank too many of them once. Your favour to me was taking away my repulsion for my favourite drink. However, a Funky Monkey will now make you ill if you even smell one.” 

Curtis had no words but Velma had pity on him and snapping her fingers, sent him home to his own bed where he would remember nothing. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Lists, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Religion/Morality, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Travel, Writing

A List of Ways I Show Love to the People I Love and A List of the Small Ways I Celebrate in Life.


Thanks to La Duchesse D’erat for the list prompts this week:

A. How we show love to the people we love

B. How we celebrate.

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Showing Love

1. I buy flowers for the women in my life (flowers they would like) such as my Mom, friend, or Godmother every now and then so they feel appreciated and because some of them don’t receive flowers from their husbands often.

2. I buy sweet treats for some of people in my life such as my brothers, Dad, Mom, and friends. Favourites are Gluten Free Macaroon cookies from Cookies by George or Gluten Free cupcakes of any flavour for my Dad. Everyone else enjoys Purdy’s Mint Melties, Hedge Hogs, Sweet Georgia Browns, Plane Milk Chocolate, or Coconut Cream Chocolate bars. Cupcakes, mainly chocolate ones work too.

3. I send notes in the mail to my Grandmas who I can’t see as often as I wish. I wrote my Grandma Reeder a poem and mailed it to her and I try to remember my Grandmas on their Birthday’s and at Christmas time, with a card and a treat when we visit.

4. I spoil my bestfriends with birthday presents such as giftcards to stores they would enjoy, makeup they would like, or a mixture of items that are about their tastes. I try to visit my friends as best as I can but it’s always nice to be remembered on your birthday. Wine works great, a nice red wine does the trick! 

5. I bake treats sometimes like chocolate fudge brownies, rhubarb cake, chocolate turtle squares, chocolate chip cookies, and apple sauce branmuffins for my family to enjoy.

6. I do extra cleaning at home or I try to remember to do a job the way my parents like the job to be done. 

7. Once in a while, I take a family member, friend, or favourite date out for dinner and pay for it, whatever they like to eat including drinks and dessert. I trust these people so I know they won’t go overboard.

8. I talk with friends family often and I listen well and let them say whatever they need to say. If they’re looking for input, I give thoughtful input. I’m also complimentary when I talk to people, trying to find good and nice aspects about them. It’s much easier to get along with people when they don’t see you as a threat or competition. This being said, I’m honest if they truly want my opinion or they are hurtful to me; I’m no doormat.

9. I pray for everyone I can remember at night. Everyone needs prayer and I don’t always remember those I need to remember, but I attempt to get everyone in my prayer. I pray for those people who make my life miserable too because at times the best way to deal with them is to pray for them.

10. I share my faith in Christ and God in my writing, and I try to show my faith in my actions and voice. By no means am I perfect, and I miss many chances to witness but I try and the Holy Spirit guides me. If you have something that is utterly life changing and gives hope you want to share it. 

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Celebrating 

1. Well into my twenties, I would celebrate the end of the week, stress from work, and or school, by going out and drinking and dancing; especially, after midterms or finals. These days, I feel a two-day hangover is not worth it. When I was younger it only took a morning to bounce back, but two or three glasses of wine with the ladies is divine, with the occasional night out to dance.

2. I will get dessert when I go out for supper. Something that is chocolate cake with Carmel sauce and ice cream if the dessert menu is sufficient. I usually never order dessert otherwise.

3. I go out and do something with a friend(s) whether that be dancing, supper, drinks, movies, coffee, yoga, brunch, or walking. It’s fantastic to be with your favourite people and share your good news in a great conversation.

4. I shop or plan to shop for a new outfit or cute shoes if I’m able.

5. If I’m only giving myself a small reward, I will go buy myself a package of Three Lindt chocolate balls or an ice cream sandwich. I suppose I’m too motivated by food.

6. I go on vacation, celebrating each year and all it’s trials and good times too. Doesn’t have to be anywhere big, only a week in a fresh city with new things to do and see.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Free Verse, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Travel, Writing

Poem: Free Verse – “Just Go”


http://www.blogingleinternational.com

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I want to just go, 

Travel somewhere,

Where waterfalls splash,

And swimming is the norm.

—–

I want to just go,

See the Duomo in Florence.

Walk the streets of Milan.

See so much art, I’m blinded.

—–

I want to just go,

View waters so blue.

See Coral reefs glow.

Relax in the sand.

—-

I want to just go,

Shop silk scarves, leather shoes,

Barter and buy,

Even though I’ve been taken.

——

I want to just go,

Drink bellinies and Margaritas,

Do a few shots straight tequila,

Sit on the deck, by the pool.

—–

I want to just go,

Hike the trail through fiolage,

Pretend I’ve no allergies,

See the sunset at night.

—–

I want to just go,

But limitations stop me,

Energy and time,

Money and people too.

—– 

I want to just go,

Someday I’ll break free.

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

My Thoughts, Six Word Stories, Writing

Six Word Stories: December 11, 2015.


1. I tried hard; I still failed.

2. Shoot the puck; might go in.

3. Don’t be a quitter; try again.

4. He gave me roses; I cried.

5. The roses were black; for death.

6. Family are your people, you’re safe.

7. Family gives much security and love.

8. We learn to love through parents.

9. My dog is small, huddling sleeping.

10. My guy snuggles close; I’m safe.

11. Money is nice and spent fast.

12. I like to shop; I like giving.

13. Christmas reminds us of Jesus’ birth.

14. The expensive things, call to me.

15. Many people love luxury, that’s cheap.

16. And luxury doesn’t mean it’s quality.

17. Fashion goes out; older Fashion restyled.

18. What’s new today, is old tomorrow.

19. I like to sleep, dream peacefully.

20. My sleeping is likely disturbed again.

21. I laugh sometimes, no one hears.

22. Laughter is the sound of jingle bells.

23. Chocolate disappears on your tongue slowly.

24. Dark chocolate is for pleasure; sweet.

25. I adore chocolate cake freshly baked.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

My Thoughts, Poetry

Only A Shop and The Words


what-is-poetry-wordle

As you all know I am very interested in getting into a Creative Writing Masters. But I have needed some inspiration and some pushing to create the way I want to create; the way I need to create. These poems are a beginning. I always used to write my feelings out in poetry such as this when I was a teenager and I haven’t for awhile. So please enjoy, comment if you like, it really does help me edit and refine my work. I am taking a couple Creative Writing classes, now, and in the next year to build a portfolio for my Master’s. These poems I will hopefully submit for class when we get to poetry. Currently, we have just started fiction. I wrote my first fiction story ever, which I will fix up a bit and submit to you at a later date. It has been awhile since I posted, sorry I have been so busy finishing up Architectural Design and my boyfriend was down from up North last week 🙂 I am taking Google Sketch Up after or while this course finishes off so will be quite busy with that but I hope to have some Flurt articles for you all soon as the magazine has undergone some editorial staffing changes lately.

Take care,

Amanda

Only a Shop 2013-02-13

It’s only a shop, only a store;
But these are the places from which I buy,
more, and more, and more.
C’est le maison, c’est le magasine
but even in Quebec I’d find something,
that I would need to own.
It’s just some compulsion, some want from within,
that makes me buy jackets, skirts, jewelry, and design.
And if I had it my way I could buy as much as my credit card would clear.
But debt is a load that’s hard to bear.
And I’ve a closet that’s full, with nothing to wear.
Full of fashion, what’s chic, that which only fits.
But there’s not enough room in there,
and the clothes they are pouring right out the door
And I want to look stylish I want to look hip.
I want to wear what I want, I want to wear it well.
But my closet is built on the guilt of no savings account.
On money tightly saved, spent once to clear the debt away.
Spent twice, now I’m trapped until I can clear some room,
In closet and on card.
I love the purchases I made in there,
I’d love them more if I had somewhere to wear that swank.
Not just some evening out, once a month.
Not just to a class one evening or two.
I’d love to wear and wear proudly to somewhere it mattered,
to look good, where people cared,
and they out-lawed old sweats and pajama pants’
to nights you had your clothes to wash at home.
My closet is a beast, it reflects the need within;
because what I wear is never enough,
I’m not 155 lbs slim anymore.
And even though I’ve grown a bit,
though I never had the money to dress myself slim back then,
today I’ll buy and buy online and in store.
I love it when I gets that feeling,
It feels like nothing else but…
endorphins from hard workouts in the gym, and dancing, late nights out…
I couldn’t do that for along time you see;
still can’t make my blood pump without passing out.
So I buy and buy myself some happiness,
filling a hole that’s been dug so deep,
like a bandage uncovering a wound,
Heals the shopping, if only brief;
the wounds of disease, the wounds that gape,
every time I get that feeling to just buy a little more.
And I’m so tired of buying, to fill in holes,
to be reprimanded by my conscience’s defiance.
It’s the only place I’m ever free, the place that I most need.
What I’d give for an empty bill and a drug that healed the soul

The Words 2013-03-20

I watched the words snap into place,
An epiphany that I’d never seen.
The words were formless fading things;
she said, redo it, I liked it how it was.
The letters they formed into words once more,
adding new thoughts to paper and rollerball pen.
I was not sure, if the new words fit,
pieces of glass in an open wound,
a story once told and soon replaced.
Do it again, or here I’ll just change it,
alter the words until my voice is unclear.
As you read it to yourself,
you won’t hear me anymore.
I am the voice silenced by anger.
Don’t change my story, isn’t it the same?
You just said it differently,
my clarity, those words aren’t mine anymore.
I watched and I waited, painted the world with emotion.
Anger, disloyalty, loathing – those words are mine.
Stop cutting, stop characterizing, stop changing.
But then I’d never learn if you didn’t comment once or twice.
I’ll never get back to the place where I know it all,
because I don’t know it anymore.
So I allow you to print half the story,
you don’t like how I say it, but this is my voice.
How dare you change my story!
Everyone wonders what the writer meant,
they see what they see, I see what I see.
Look it over and leave it,
your so young you have yet to see,
you like me know nothing.
It’s the curse of this world, there is no control,
you fight for control when you say it your way,
But neither of us knows it
And few people older know; we are small in this world.
We can dream big, but eventually we need come down to earth.
Control is an illusion, so don’t alter the words,
that splash and soak into my paper.
Leave the peace be, and leave my piece alone.
But the words once more came crashing down.
Who knows if their mine, or if they are yours.