The Window

It stands there still, with it's wooden frame. The railroad just across the bay of something more. Red foxes roam these lands now. 

When you were here, do you remember the one brick that stood out from all the others on our corner street? Or did I make that up, just to save my sanity. I don't want to be in denial, but it seems I have no choice. 

Remember those happy days in the springtime? Me neither. All that can fill my mind, is the nonsense you talked when midnight struck. Glass hit the floor as my feet bleeds from the clashing sting upon the ground. My head anything but casually stricken. 

Midnight was loud. Midnight was violent, but one A.M. emerged and you seemed alright. Passed out upon the floor after I'd hit you with my favorite of your bottles. Gravity claimed you as one of their own. Velvet blood streamed from your hair. So, I turned off the lights, and I will miss you in the morning. Too exhausted to face the window that captured it all. With it's wooden frame and railroad just across the bay of something more. 

Reviews

[Ayush]

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[Celestia Benita Singh]

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[Zoltan]

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Keep writing!

[Eternal Poet]

Great piece of work! Haunting!

[Rewel Acosta Rivera]

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