If I could hash you out, and paint pictures over your memory…would I?  The bloody full moon, I can’t resist it’s ebb and flow.  In the other room, the right notes in the right cadence, pull my mind backward

The logical side of my brain says to me:  She was only out to mind fuck you from jumpstreet.
The other side, where the bad neighborhood is:  Misses you every fucking day.

It all started with that kiss, unreal as it was.   Lightning, sex, fire, Mjollnir all colliding together.

Fall is my favorite time of year; a time of memory.

Especially October, and the coming of the Hunters Moon.

From now on, the first 30 days, belong to you.  Bitter-sweet as it is.  The loss, birthed 13 songs.  Our bastard child of it all.  They are mine now.

Sleep well, on your little hill.  I mean what I said, and probably always will.

Ciao Ciao.

#3ndtrans