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Vodka and Cigarettes.

On The Universe

I'm trying hard not to love you because you're afraid to fall and I'm afraid of heights. But as the days go on, it's getting harder to resist the urge to kiss you to the songs you play when you start to feel afraid. I can't ever love you because I am just seaweed and you are the ocean. I can't tell you I love you because every damn time I convince myself I'm in love, it ends with my head beating down on my heart and traveling all the way to my knees as they become weak. And if love is just a word than you are just another boy. But you're not; you're so much more than that. You are the music that runs a marathon through my head all day and I can't be happy until the actual moment I get to listen to the words that I have been craving. You are the books I dream of creating but am so damn scared to write. You are my sunday night dinners releasing my tensions of the hazardous week but giving me depression with the thought of Monday mornings. You are the stars that align the sky; beautiful to see but impossible to reach. You are the vodka that fills me up with joy until I can't see straight, creating the danger of getting back home. You are the cigarettes that lay in between my fingers; I long for your taste but you are slowly killing me with every inhale.

199. Docks

On 365days 100words

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The arm of the crane jutted out like the claw of a monster crab. The smell of oil, salt and rotten wood filled the air and touched everything. At the jetty, there was a man selling soft drinks and peanuts. Men with fish scales on their foreheads and dry mud caking their boots stood in groups and smoked filter-less cigarettes. With my minnow net I picked up pieces of interesting trash from the brown, oil-glazed water. Bottle glass, a plastic hook and a rubber seal. I left them in the sun to dry and they soon lost their shine like dead fish.

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