Fighting Tigers

Beating hearts and tempered moans erupt from the bedroom walls but there’s no love between those sheets, just a reckless and cold release. Breathe slow, they’ll never know if you keep your voices low enough. Sleep tight past sunrise, to wake up alone. Fading lights for desperate souls holding out for the ones they loved to come home and hold them close, a heart has no home for loneliness. Our heroes are in freefall, they couldn’t find their worth in the free world. High up from the rat race, they jump one by one from buildings to fly away, far from the lives they came to save, and hate.

There’s No Business Like No Business

High time I ran on intuition when our ties get bound and burned at every turn. All I find are ways to remain the same within confines that I’ll spend a life re-pitching. Alight is the runway leading into a city I don’t believe in. Old songs for older bones emanate from a radio below the wrought hearts and roving souls. Burdened, but not alone. One night fate an apparition and our lives found ourselves a purpose up against the tides we’ve fought but never sought to wade inside beyond our fear of overreaching. I’ll leave footprints upon the path where my old man walked to work. I’ll grind all day and drink these nights from a dirty glass under faint bar light.