Of stories

Tell me a story full of secrets and lies
Tell me of dreams filled with memories
Tell me of what was and what is, and what never will be

Tell me a story of color and wind
Tell me of voices screaming in silence
Tell me of eyes blinded by truth

Tell me a story of lives lived in shadows
Tell me of whispers from corners of the mind
Tell me of songs full of nothing and rain

Tell me a story before I forget,
Tell me what it is to be alive
Tell me of death before it takes me again

Tell me a story full of secrets and lies…

Tell me a story full of secrets and lies

This line, this phrase has been whispered in the back of my mind as long as I can remember. I don’t know where it came from, I don’t know it’s inspiration. I just know that in the middle of the silence, staring at clouds painted in the sky, listening to the suicide birds outside of my window, it comes back to me. Some times I find myself whispering it to myself, I find myself mumbling it as I awake.

I have no answers, no clear understanding.

But I would like you to tell me a story….