Floodlights. They devour the field. Boys run on the grass (that glows). And when sprinting on the balls of their feet, they look like angels. And here would be heaven.
The angels were out tonight. They were beautiful. The scene was perfect.
I try to tell myself to think of something else, but all I do is fail. I try to tell myself that I could do better, but all I do is disagree. The angels were out tonight and the floodlights drowned them in starshine. The world is silent to me, they're the only things in sight.
I'm trying not to remember things I did with you. But all I do is miss you.
Someone please smack some sense into me, for Pete's sake.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment