An Epiphany

A Story by Luke

Something tells me this is a bad idea. Yet I like to taste the sky. I like to hope for these kinds of things. Maybe it will work out this time. Love is in the kitchen with a culinary eye and I will be smart enough to take a bite. The taking of chances i will be remembered for, or not.

I've got a chance for a sweet sane life; I've got a chance and perhaps I will do just fine.

The moon is full tonight. I remember what that used to mean. It began a little something like this.

Its time we gave something new a try. That apple is still bittersweet. What they will think of me. What they did think of me. The world always decides I suppose.

Each line is a new thought. A new memory that has resurfaced here, now, in the dead of night. It would be overly cryptic to state that I am at home at this time. The siren's poetic song still manages to find the truth in what it is trying to cover up by being bombastic.

"Dry your tears I'm bored with mine, who could harm you, to hurt you is to be despised, as I long to" -AFI

Consider this a declaration to take the shot. The goal is in sight and all can see in my eyes that I am about to go for glory.