... was kind of cheesy.
You told a lie and got on a plane.
The heart of the Empire State.
The empty deck: No one was waiting for you after all.
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All the dark clouds hovered in the sky,
Minutes or seconds before we say goodbye,
Rain drops slightly as tears start to fall,
It comes down in torrents,
As we turned away and started to walk,
Thunder and lightning as it starts to hurt,
For heartache is a pain just like any other,
But after a while when the clouds are all spent,
You heal or maybe forget the whole mess,
The sun will come out,
And you'd smile again.
My heart is not at rest. In Tinseltown where I divest. My heart, my time, my interest. Instead of joy, it has become a pest. Time to leave, I suggest. My turn to find the best. No regrets in leaving lest, I'm losing out on the finest.
This ridiculous exercise, I'm doing because I'm avoiding. And this is bad. Terribly so. I'm bored. And I refuse. Mad one.
You silly creature, one who doesn't listen to her senses. Just abandon everything to the wind. And see how you like it better.
Heartsick. Everything tumbles and stumbles. And there is not one thing that you're really really sure of.
She dreamed of love, like storms violent and sunsets resplendent. Like Romeo and Juliet, through the wounds, through the pain, to the death. She dreamed of love that would outlast lifetimes, eternities. She dreamed of love imagined and love beyond imagination. It is pure, it is true, it is filled with passion. And no matter what happens they will always be happy. And that's what matters the most.
As love lies dying, bleeding endlessly on the hard wooden floors, her scarlet lips moves in a whisper. "Love never dies." But all it took was one bullet to her heart; a hole that couldn't heal fast enough. It ripped through her fragile form, throwing her down in disarray, her hair fans out, her limbs helter skelter. And yet she manages to rise up slightly and look at him in the eye and spits her revenge. And as the light of life slowly drains out of her eyes he watches and wonders if it was he who was truly dead instead.
In a world of everyone wanting to be famous for the sake of famous... And not actually feel like doing anything in particular... (And actually deeply steeped in this culture and emotion) Has brought me to this petty debacle of how to manage being spectacular and try not to be entirely shallow and lacking of verve and wit...
(To Be Continued)
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