Flannel chord (part 6)

                   Flannel chord (part 6)  music stories
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geocliff I see your pain, daydreamers of art...
Autoplay OFF   â€Ē   18 days ago
Part 6 is up and about, probably my favourite part of the story. See for yourself why, hehe 👀😋ðŸĶĒ🧚‍♀ïļðŸ’˜ðŸ’Ŧ🧎ðŸŒđ

Flannel chord (part 6)

Vessels of my armour were defenseless to the slow stream of change,

steadily like honey runs down bee hives but surely strong like August monsoon my routine

relied on her presence to cherry my pile of grey stripped vision of poop chores to

a tiny little aromatic candle that reminded me of her posture, small but burning

intensily, only if I knew that flame would flicker shut to the watery ground...

Texting shifted to voice calls, she would

send me messages of wake up calls to goodnight wishes and dreams of candy

clouds but progression wasn't as fast as my words flow, it was that time around that

I questioned how could she be so guarded still when all the acts she does avert that highway, it made me feel 'easy'

but perhaps keeping safe her torments was needed to survive in her cracked piece of life.

I could wish to ask but couldn't bring myself

to intrude harder than I could, I hoped she would tell me eventually and I believe she

did but no matter how many runs she gave about her tarnished life pattern it would

never feel enough, secrecy was a suit of her straight veiled eyes even when wide

open to which I couldn't pull away leaving intriguing all the documents of her story

to my curiosly thirsty mind.

'Life veined my heart to beat it's rhythm

and wired my brain to charge it's breathing portrait into thoughts but it never taught

me how to deal with lack of heartbeats or thoughts while still alive' she would calculate her pain in words,

there was much grim coal dumping her spirits in ways I couldn't fashion

to describe but I felt pinched from her coy way of evading truth without lying.

We started hanging out in an abandoned warehouse near my neighbourhood

apparently used for music devices but abolished after dept and sinking bankruptcy,

being it recently left behind it was in good shape and almost furnished to which we

were satisfied to rest our facades before returning to our puppet master scheming houses,

our homes were lost virtues of dalliance with the gene lottery to which

the permanent contracts of our appearances were signed imprinting random parents to

our blurry existence, not appreciated.

That didn't last longer than summer rain

but in the little space we would hang out our love of music invested it claws on our

sense of expression connecting our sorrows into one piece of articraft with the thought

of enjoyment covering the cracks of our mutual traumas resonating to free the

chains from each others necks.

The proposal was mine: 'What if we make

a song together, just for fun? I know some guitar and you can write lyrics' to which

she laughed while barely speaking: 'Haha, you're gassing me ideas that can't fuel even birds to sing so what can amateur hands

really produce further than ticking clock sounds?!' but her idea sipped in me

without realising what she did.

Eventually I baked her confident to approve

of my foolish request, I just knew she could

do it and it proved to be the most beautiful lyrics I've ever felt embrace me, it was small

but the repetition was the embodiment of the prayers we made to ourselves

for staying strong one more day but the most holy thing was her timid voice synchronising

as best as she could the words to fit into a melody.

'Palms tick the clock away, I see you vision light from this embrace, thus tears cry for

sun to garden you music of joy, hold me genie of the mystic, together we endeavour loneliness

away so hear my melody, hear my melody, remember me by my melody, I'm just your melody',

her shaky voice sang to me once or twice imprinting admiration to my face

while my tick tock guitar strings filled the

gaps of her silence, if she knew what those lyrics would have meant for me years later.

December chimed in pearly white and I was at peak of sunrise, we found any chance

we could where eyes never crossed paths, laming responsibilities out and talking about silent comfort,

the universe beyond our past shinning stars and days where we could

run in corn fields till the sea wetted our blistered toes, that usual routine of Sunday looking

at her perked close to my shoulder I knew the fence of my heart was only

hay knitted at this point and the tide

flooded forward.

Locked eyes and crashing breaths away I could see a warm glow inviting hunger

into my pure intentions and in a crude fight of morals against desires I leaned in and

pecked gently her lips feeling my heart thump melted metal plates on my skin but she

didn't move nor object, still her cheeks were blood red and when I saw her tiny giddy

smile I felt relief dry out my panic.

'Next time I'll do it first, k?', she kissed my cheek and left for her house leaving me

faint of thoughts but energetic to her bold statement, I could tell how flushed and overexcited I felt but I was too

distracted to contemplate that this was our last meeting...

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