neographixx

I walked up the steps into my house. The night was slowly creeping up on the world as it has always done during the first day of summer vacation. Aromas of cigarettes and stale alcohol enveloped me as I made my way to my room. I ran my fingers on the wall covered with smoke stained floral wallpaper. The other side had none because of water damage. I stole into my room, and plopped on my bed with a loud crack as was greeted with clouds of dust. My black ceiling loomed over me as it always has a sense of doing. I looked at the familiar environment: black walls, black chair and black desk, green lava lamp, black bed, black door, black curtains.

Your gentle cheek,   soft and pure, Where so many times   I have put my hand, Is now old and wrinkled   From years of love. ... Twentyfive to be exact. ... Yes, she is twentyfive today,   my special girl. She will always be   my special girl. ... "Don't look at me,   not like that!" I chuckle softly   She knows I ... What was I   going to say?

Speak to me, speak. In the middle of the night,   Speak. Let your voice surround me. Take me away, take me away. Thunder rolls over the house. Lightning blinks in the sky. Torrents of rain hammer nails   In the roof. Still, you speak to me. Over and over,   Like a broken record. "Don't love me like you   say you do, Hurt me like you   say you won't." Speak to me, speak. In the middle of the night,   Speak.

I walked along the sand. I walked with you. The sea critters raced   to thier home. The waves reconstructed   the sand. Ever changing world. Never changing world. Always moving   yet in stasis. As we walked along   I looked at you. The beatiful beach   fades away.