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the last sunset

avast
Friday, June 22, 2007

My heart palpitates with every fleeting moment, and all I see is you in black and white. Running through the length of the shoreline, I blink a few times, with every black and white beat, the sun sets in a menacing yet gradual fashion. It didn't lose its yellow luster to the last bit of sunshine, even as I look past the gray in all this. I see you a few steps ahead of me, and I try to catch up, giving a little more energy with every step. A blink again, and I see you looking back at me, behind the doorway. It's closing slowly, and though I lunged forward for the final stretch, my face met with cold, stone ground, and the last thing I remember before the door closed, is you looking down at me. The light died, as everything else dissipated into the void.

Here I am, slumped on my bed, looking out the window, watching the rain drop the from the sky and create circular ripples on the small puddle of murky water that had formed a while a go. Whenever I played with the raindrops, my hand, and pretty much everything else, started to fade into black and white again. And with that, I'm happy.

smiled at the sun again @ 11:44 PM,




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