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Friday, January 18, 2013

Lyrical Release: Inside Out

Sharing some lyrics I wrote recently. Can you hear the music? Tell me what you think.

There's an elephant on my chest
Can't take it
Can't take it
Too much stress
You're love is killing me
Eating me up
From the inside out
Can't take it
Have to break this
Trying to find the way out
This life is slow dying
Waiting,begging,trying
No escape
The pain it builds
No release
Praying for peace
Can't take it
Need to shake this
The elphant on my chest
Stress without release
Have to break away
Need to getaway
Runaway from the knife
Cutting with each breath
Can't take this
You can take this
Keep this
I'm out of this mess
Put the ring from my finger
On the elephant on my chest
Lock it up safe
I'm done with your stress
Can't take this
Not going to take this
I'm out the door

©2013 R.M.Brandon

Friday, January 4, 2013

Exerpt: Whispers of Dead

This is an excerpt from one of my current works in progress :Whispers of Dead. Let me know what you think. I LOVE feedback!
The strangest of occurrences. Aghast with fright, eyes wide, pupils straining to turn murky shadows into solidity. Sweat beads across my brow. The thundering beat of my heart moves steadily from ears to throat impeding what little air my lungs are able to acquire.  The increasing rhythm of a taxed cardiac system falls slightly as my the heightened sense of hearing turns every minute noise into a deafening boom.
A steady squeak. A long creak. Pop. The air becomes chilled as the heat escapes outside. The back door. Frozen with fear eyes more pupils than whites peak through a sliver beneath my heavy comforter.
Voices. Muffled like someone talking to me while my heads under water. A soft snore sounds from the pile of flesh beside me. So much for the protection of a man. Why isn't my dog barking?
Is the teenager sneaking out? Dragging my trembling knees from the false safety of bed I tip toe to investigate.
The door is closed. Everyone is sleeping. The milk jug dangles mid air in the yellow light of the open refrigerator door. I can hear them drinking from the jug. I see them jug. Before my very eyes the lid is replaced, jug is returned to the shelf, door swiftly closed.
Darkness. The aroma of a lit cigarette. A distant sound of running water. Silence.
I lingered frozen with fear, convinced my night tremors must've returned from childhood. The dream test!
Slowly I made way back to the bedroom. Lifting the paper from the bedside table I read the date out loud.
Its not a dream if you can read. Diving back to the safety of the covers my head swam with confusion.
Questions. Fear. Must hold onto reality. I can't tell anyone.
This is just what he is waiting for. If he finds out I fear the cheese is sliding from my cracker he will be able to safely lock me away. They can take everything I have worked for and leave me to a padded room with crayons for company.
No! I must be vigilant. There is a truth here and it will be revealed. The possibilities weighed heavily on my mind manifesting themselves in vivid dreams.
The journey began. Looking back now the terror felt in those first dreams paled in comparison to the nightmare of the truth.
One question is left to be answered: Is it I that haunts her or she that haunts me? Which of us is dead?