Such a pretty bottle never harmed anyone. The liquid inside sings a quiet melody when the cork is taken out. I place the glass close to my ear and hear my dreams whispered back to me. The voices sound muffled and distorted, but I can still recognize the words. They are the same phrases I speak in the night as I fight against the demons making their way up my porch. A comical sailor I would make as I sing my terror through eyes closed tight against the wind. I ignore the screams and instead sway back and forth with the chaos.
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A Good Blog is Hard to Find 
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