Josh and Misty
Bio
Two artists in love. We write together, and work together, play together and live together.
I(Misty) am the loud mouthed jester and he(Josh) is the quiet, watchful protector.
We welcome any helpful constructive criticism to help us improve
Stories (4)
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Satan's Buffet
Just cant make any fucking words come out of the storm today. You tell me to grab a slice of happiness pie from the 24 hour buffet. When I try you bomb me with your emotional napalm and tell me BAD! I ask you why with hurt confusion in my eyes and you smile and say you misunderstood me... When I said grab a slice, you were supposed to feed ME.
By Josh and Misty5 years ago in Poets
Something New... Something Old
Twisting and turning. Never stopping just moving on...a leaf caught on the wind.... blown against a tree and shellacked to a windshield...A seed blown across two states just ahead of spring rain...whipped into the crack of a fourth story kitchen window.... These things are wind-driven and I make no fucking sense when I write anymore... So many fucking thoughts and so many fucking words and so many damned pieces of mental duct-tape flying out of nowhere to stick the bitches together and make a crazy kaleidoscope no one understands... increasingly I see the world thru strange eyes...the angles skewed and warped... faces stretched and blurred and voices blending together into a cacophonous WAAWAAWAA's...I have no idea where the fucking wind is blowing me. I struggle for words, sentences and structure to put voice to my insane ramblings. Attention- span daydreams weave sinuously through my verbal brain-vomit like mature maggots through the eye sockets of a road-kill cat. Moments of clarity spear the intellectual chaos between my ears like morning sunlight through a bullet hole in the ceiling of a smokey blacked out bar. Every morning a rattly little red capsule that works less and less to quell the chair-breaking barroom-brawl taking place in my psyche...
By Josh and Misty5 years ago in Poets
The Lightening And The Rod
Life is funny. You're plodding along, head hanging down, not looking where you're going and WHAM!!! Something so random and statistically unlikely slaps you in the head with the force of a ten ton mac truck and the Universe leans into your ear and stage whispers... "Sorry I'm Late".
By Josh and Misty5 years ago in Poets
