I don’t like this place. I don’t like these people. But it seemed like the thing to do. The thing to do, to go back to normal. But what’s normal, now that you follow me around. What’s the use in normal, if it means I can’t have you around? So I’ll head to the exit and go home, if it means you’ll go home with me. I’ll be un-normal. I’ll be abnormal, if you never let go. If it means the coffee will get cold, the ice will never melt and the A/C will be switched off permanently, I will take it all... If you stay with me. If you stay on this side.
I could always read you like a book. And now I just see right through you. I keep my eyes locked on where your heart used to be. And I wonder does it still beat for me, skip time and rush fast. Then I look up at your deep chilling eyes, down to your warm smile and realise that if you still had it; it would still be on your sleeve for me to read. I wonder what mine would read, now that your gone...but you’re not gone. But I don’t care. Because I would rather have your cold hand to disappear into, than somebody elses warm hand to hold hands with.
-Please Check Out the resources because they were partly inspired, especially my initial inspiration Peace by BowtiesAreCool-
inspired by courtneywirthit's Coffee Went Cold
He sat quietly, staring at his coffee. Writer's block.
He hadn't been able to write anything since she...since she had gone. As soon as her eyes fluttered shut for the last time, he knew that the words would not come anymore. He couldn't speak at her funeral, for he had no words left to say. No words could describe the unbearable pain and heartbreak that he felt.
He had started smoking again. She had always hated it when he did, threatening that one day she would drop dead of...