The Black Couch Chronicles

i remember sitting on the couch and listening to my song. i can't forget how my heart wanted to burst out of my chest, how its beats caused me slight deaths.
i remember skinny dipping into the rhythm and felt the chills up my spine thinking about the loss of something i never really had....

The other day, as I was coming out of the shower, my mom asked me: "Why put your tattoos on your back where you can seldom see them?". I said I don't need to see them everyday because I know they are there.
They are stamps and I am the passport. My back is my past and I will be facing what the future brings with what I have become....

There's a black couch similar to this
Torn and tattered but I really miss...
If only that couch could speak,

I knew of friends who were played on by the grandness of life. From others' point of view it may seem that they played with chance, they tested fate. One was a free soul, the other has a free mind. All odds against. For a long time they've always just...