Desires 65

A new story in Desires begins, and the one that appears in it I will always know as…



Desires – Beginnings

By BStyles and Tera S

Part One


Martin allowed himself a small smile up there on the stage, a hand slicking his long brown hair back out of his eyes once again, amber-colored optics looking out over the mass that had gathered here to listen to him sing. The overhead lights were imposing on one’s vision, yet he knew all too well the faces of rapt attention each member of his audience was wearing. The Kiva Han coffeehouse was always a packed house when he performed. It never seemed to faze him, how stereotypical he looked, sometimes: tall, thin, long hair; an acoustic guitar slung across one shoulder; zippered hoody worn over a black slogan tee; torn blue jeans and Converse sneakers. Like every other unwashed collegiate in town, though he was at least six or seven years senior.

The house was a big one: two floors of table space, with about twenty round tables evenly spaced, each one with a view of the stage area, as well as seating at the coffee bar itself. The walls were decorated with European posters, bamboo and ferns. Despite it’s capacity, however, the “stage” as it was called was little else than a four-foot square of raised tile with a stool, microphone stand and halogen lights. Yet it was a friendly place for those who specialized in vocal or acoustic arts, the easiest place to set up a gig, and the management realized very quickly why the majority of the customers were there on nights he performed. The coffee was good, but it wasn’t “full-to-capacity” good. Martin always got a share of the profits those nights.

“I want to thank all of you for coming out and supporting me tonight. It really means a lot to me…but I’m afraid it’s getting to be that time of the hour, and as much as I hate to admit it, all good things must eventually come to an end.” A chorus of ‘no’s’ drowned him out suddenly, and he couldn’t help but grin. “So with much love for all of you, here’s my last song of the night…” With a slow strumming on his guitar, he sang out in a wilting, mournful tenor…


The city slips away too soon
Tonight she’s wide awake
Making small talk with Mr. Moon
Singing louder than the rain
On nights like these she can be herself
She forgets I’m there but it’s just as well
I always feel like I’m by myself
And she never will, oh never will

She says she hates the fact that men can see
She wants to tear the eyes out of everything

What makes her feel the way she feels
Like everything is nothing real
What makes her see the things she sees
Like everything that’s wrong with me
I guess I should stop trying to figure her out
I should know by now that I’m not allowed
Now I know this is not allowed
If I want to keep her comin ’round

She says she hates the fact that men can see
She wants to tear the eyes out of every living thing
Oh God! I grin

Does that include me…Does that include…

She hides her reflecton with pictures from magazines
She gets so angry when I don’t see what she sees
But if I’m supposed to sit and watch her tear herself apart
Then maybe I was wrong, she never really knew me at all…

Hello, Hello, did you find your self-esteem
Should I suppose that he’s giving you what you need
And so it goes and slowly I begin to breathe
Hello, Hello, Hello, I’m so sorry it wasn’t me
I ‘m so sorry it wasn’t me

The city slips away too soon
Tonight she’s wide awake
Making small talk with Mr. Moon
He listens to everything she says
And he doesn’t try to understand
Never expects to be let in
He just hangs on every word
That comes from the mouth
Of this little girl

The last note seemed to drift from his lips, as his fingers slowly strummed the final chord. Then all was lost to applause.


You always sung from your soul Angel…




    • avatar
    • James on February 19, 2013 at 11:13 am

    An interesting setting, and a wonderful writing partner. I look forward to seeing where this goes.

    • avatar
    • TeraS on April 5, 2013 at 11:19 pm

    It does go places… eventually…


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