Words, are like wildfires. They are unstoppable and their presence can be felt from immeasurable distances. They start in your ears and spread faster than describable through your brain to your heart, to your soul. There they dance in hot intensity until extinguished by a flood of concentration. Words are the oldest form of magic, accessible to all. There are, of course, those who are more skilled than others at molding the words into universes of astonishing creations. Yet even...

Before you go by Lewis Capaldi 
   Writing is hard. Especially on days like today when words don’t wanna come to my fingertips. Especially with songs like this that are more like feelings than words. So today all I’m going to do is tell you that this song is... indescribably unalienating. 

Brother (acoustic) by Kodaline
    I am someone who feels things deeply or not at all. Music that express what its like to love someone with your whole self is what gives me hope that I’m not alone in this. Other people don’t understand what it’s like to constantly try and describe the indescribable. I think as a writer and as someone who has always loved words, the thing I search for in life are the things that leave me...

Flares by the script

       This prompt is really hard for me. Music has always been a huge part of my life, in that choosing one song a day is like picking if I should get a trench coat or a leather jacket. Both are things that make me happy and feel powerful, but in very different ways. Music is like that for me, it eliminates loneliness and brings out parts of me I was previously unaware of....

Death walked on slender paws of a black alley cat down a dark back street littered with the corpses of objects once loved. Death was tired of being placed in streets like this. She wanted to be in the clean halls of a hospital. The people there are the ones surrounded by warmth when death sent took away. They had a family to give them peace. But the people out here, out in this cold sand dusty alleyway they are...

To be trapped between those lost and those found is a precarious place to be. You know that you don’t know; you know the spices that are added to the recipe of you but no idea what the other ingredients are. I know not who I will become because no one will allow me to see past the hairs on the head in front of me. I only know what I want to be but no one will allow me...