So now the queen's gone, and you're left muttering sweet consoles under your breath, feeling like an absolute fool for her. Walking past the bus stop, where all those closed memories just you and her seem to be like you're standing on a stage, hours after the play has ended. The day's start to seem faded, and she becomes more of a figment of your imagination than what used to be the last trace of reality in this fake cardboard world. I'm sitting in front of you, munching on my munchy cereal, watching the last call of boyishness disapparate from your eyes.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
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