Monologue epilogue.

“What do you think will happen to me when i expire?” your grip had loosened and your eyes had wandered.

Your lips still wet, glistened beneath the citrus lights, and your hair was in a precious mess.

“You would become the voice in my head.” with that, i turned to walk away in pseudo triumph.

“And i will speak softly, and without pause. What you do not hear, would at once be lost.”

It astounds me, how people so easily succumb to passionate fires that would sooner turn us into cinders than to let us languish in its warm embrace.
Only you would beg to differ.

~ by cryhavok on March 9, 2008.