Tremolo To a Vibrato

Tremolo to a vibrato when loud words are coughed forth from the inside. A chest aches - and history repeats itself. Adaggio calls me again - deaf ears stretch my arms open and upside down smiles spills your imagination into sepia tones. Tremolo to a vibrato when slick consonants of clever abuse peel my naked shadow from your wall and quietly sing me onto your fine linen sheets. Your fingertips burn. Ego and psyche tucked - I am aloe assaulted with fist-folded skin clamped upon my mouth. Nausea will hush my tears as they rise and blend into a cacophony of eager reminders. Lost epiphanies bleed atop blaring crescendos - the notes scatter like malnourished roaches and history repeats itself. Tremolo to a vibrato I'm trapped inside a lost journal - where there are no watchful eyes in back of me. An embarrased immigrant is stripped of his challenged wares and cursed sanctions; learning how to believe in the truthful lies of my masochistic mentor. I usually excuse my tattered ignorance. Self loathing and wanting comes with the territory - when my masts are down and I'm anxiously anchored inside your nurturing claws; I sing aloud. Tremolo to a vibrato - history repeats itself. Tremolo to a vibrato - please don't sing back.