Uhh... She's not okay is she.. Wicker basket = burn whole house down...
I liked it a lot. Are you going to add more to it?
Put You Heart Were Your Mouth Is All she wanted was for it to stop. But no her mouth just kept moving faster than she could think about what she was saying. It was all blah, blah, I hate you, blah, blah, get out of my life, blah, blah. She walked away from him. Crying. At least she was walking away, finally. All he did was stand there dumb founded. Inside his head was screaming. Part of his heart and soul were dying. He loved her. But he did disserve this. She left him for what she thought was the last time. He went home that night. Dropped his stuff on the floor, went through the fridge, rocked out, and went to bed. This would have been his normal routine but tonight was different. Tonight all he could think about was her. Her walking across his room in nothing but the moonlight. The way her lips moved when she talked. Her too big for her face smile. The dark, dark hair paired with pale blue eyes. His chest was ripping apart it’s all he could think about. For hours he sat on his bed thinking about her and trying to feel. But all he could feel was pain. Real deep pain. It was as if millions of knives were stabbing into his chest. The torturing, crippling pain. Then like a dam breaking wide open his pain spilled out of his eyes. The only thing saving him that night was the music. A guitar and a pick and an amp. Simple but effective in keeping him alive for one more night. She slammed the breaks to fast completely missing the stop sign. Thank fate all the police men decided to be M.I.A. Running a stop sign and speeding is a big fat ticket just waiting to happen. But normally she very safe driver but tears and the need for her bed were very overwhelming. Forgetting to pull the emergency break she rushed in the house. Slamming the doors and stomping up the stairs and completely losing it ones inside the confines of her room. But it wasn’t safe here either. Pictures plastered the walls. Happy times of her and him. It was him. All over looking at her with those deep eyes and smiling that crooked smile that hides his chipped tooth. She started to lose it. Ripping down all of the pictures. Throwing them in her wicker basket. Striking that singular match. And torching the whole thing. |
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Comments 1 to 4 of 4
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