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Twenty-Fourth of September
You walked through the door and walked the other way
I looked at you and knew I couldn’t let you get away
Now we’ve been together for almost two short years
We’ve been through the good and bad, had our share of tears
Because here I am, there you are
Why does it have to be so hard?
Everything will work out in the end
I’m just fighting time to make now then
Everyday is a struggle, here alone without you
Sometimes I close my eyes, don’t know what to do
I’m mad at the world, trying to rewind time
To remake my decisions so that everything is fine
Because here I am, there you are
Why does it have to be so hard?
Everything will work out in the end
I’m just fighting time to make now then
We’re just two people caught in the game of love
Someday we’ll be together, with help form above
Just keep singing our song with your heart
And days will melt away and we won’t be apart
Because here I am, there you are
Why does it have to be so hard?
Everything will work out in the end
I’m just fighting time to make now then
I’m just fighting time to make now then
( XIII ) Twelth of September
Down through the my soul and around the bend
Is a little place where I like to pretend
That life is a slide and I’m feeling the wind
As it brushes my face and tickles my chin
With fingers that come from that mountain of love
Where sadness is an illusion and she is my dove
( XII ) Tenth of September
Dissillusioned by my self pity
Here alone in this distant city
Drowning cause the air is too think
I miss you girl, I wanna come home quick
Mascarading reality, forgetting my dreams
Fooling myself, inside my head screams
Benchpressing reality with all my will
I miss you girl, I wanna come home quick
The world is slowly burning between my two fingers
Closing my eyes hoping your love still lingers
My walls are bare to hide the truth
I miss you girl, I wanna come home quick
Blocking the sun with fearful shades
Watching the hours turn into passing days
Circulating life, never forgetting to bookmark your page
I miss you girl, I wanna come home quick
Up above in the sky tonight, my wishes float, on and on
Down below in my heart, so right, there you are, again and again
I miss you girl, I wanna come home quick
( X1 ) Twenty-fifth of March
An open road with the windows down.
A breeze crashing in, blowing her hair.
My arm around her.
A hill approaching and then passing.
Some good old country music with a touch of reality.
Heaven on Earth.
( X ) Twentieth of March
The night sky had chased away the sun, the heavens opened up and the stars slowly came into view, one by one.
On a small hill, nestled between the 14th and 17th fairways, we stretched out a blanket and I set down the cooler, filled with a picnic, in the grass beside us.
We settled down away from the crowd, but voices could still be heard off in the distance.
We were two bugs cuddled in a rug.
It was the eve if our country’s celebration and the explosions that occurred overhead did her justice.
One perfect night created on a moments notice. If only all my plans could go so well.
( IX ) Seventeenth of March
Two wine glasses we picked up at the dollar store and on Corona (without a lime), sat perched on the table beside us.
It was a night of nearly all emotions. The type of night that makes you feel so alive and so dead at the same time.
Ten slender fingers, two soft hands, and her soft lips were entangled with mine.
An alarm clock set for early in the morning.
The end of THE week and the start of the countdown.
Sixty.
( VIII ) Sixth of March
“It’s the first long kiss on a second date.”
She was wearing a light brown shirt. The kind of shirt that looks part Indian because it is frayed at the bottom. The kind of shirt that bounces and glides through the air when she walks in her tight jeans and boots. Most importantly she was wearing that smile of hers that always drives me crazy.
We hopped in the cab of my truck, the equivalent of saddling one hundred and thirty one horses and headed to the concert. Sure we could have taken a nicer car, but my beat up truck matched the occasion, like green on Saint Patrick ’s Day.
The music was alive and danced. So much that you couldn’t help dancing along with it. It was familiar in a way that made in comfortable and almost cuddly.
We held hands and sang along.
Who knows, maybe some day I’ll be a country singer.
( VII ) Fifth of March
The wind was gnawing on our faces and the blood from the wound swiftly froze and painted our cheeks red.
It was an unfamiliar city. The bricks in the sidewalk had settled over many years and were doing there best to trip us as we hurried along.
We were two explorers searching for food.
Two hours earlier we had both been on separate planes, slowly converging to the same destination.
It was great to get away for a weekend and even better because I was able to get away with her.
( VI ) Fourth of March
The wind was sweet; the clouds were the kind that could be made into anything and the chain link fence was new and seemed to flow together.
“Foul balls are expected, Foul language is not!”
We were at a baseball game, the past time of the past. Her brother played on the team and we just cuddled in the stands.
It was the first baseball game I had truly enjoyed, and I hardly watched any of it.
( V ) Third of March
A yellow, orange, and red gradient centered on a semi-circle sun, slowly started to cast its shadow on the waves and the lifeguard tower.
“Lifeguard not on duty.”
She hopped on my back and I ran across the sand. Destination anywhere, as long as it was there.
Our footprints blended into the sand and our happiness blended together.
Two smiles and one fun night.
( IV ) Second of March
There we were, lying on a towel with our backs to the sun, looking at the camera and smiling.
An open box of bocce balls and two books were laid down beside us.
Jagged posts from a barrier wall were sticking up from the sand in the background that no longer served as a wall, but rather a small obstacle to avoid stepping on.
The horizon was endless and the seagulls were in full bloom.
I’m glad I got a haircut.
( III ) First of March
The door was locked and behind the door stood my life.
My heart was pounding and my face showed the stress that was building up inside me.
As I looked around I noticed a container hanging on the wall beside the door. In the container was a paperclip. I bent it straight and picked the lock.
I am glad to inform you that my life was not only ready for me, but it was also waiting.
( II ) Twenty-Eighth of February
The day was hot. Defiantly the clouds stood poised to attack.
Despite warnings otherwise, we jumped in my truck and headed to the beach.
The crowds had left. Only their remnants and a few brave souls remained.
We set our towels down beside a tree and raced into the water. I never should have brought the gray raft.
( I ) Twenty-Seventh of February
The tassels on the back of her swimsuit bounced with temptation as she ran across the sand.
She was running with a moderate pace, fast enough to make me work to catch her and slow enough so that she would be sure that I would.
I played her game and let her run ahead.
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