Billy, the name I chant softly... peers through me and burns, like the sun or an open wound that has not been cleaned. Now have to press through what god has given to me, an angel, and I have yet to find peace. I remember, Billy and I would dance under the overpass while it would rain, our long black withered rain coats would drag over the puddles on the edge, and when the rain would come to an end we would just lay there and watch the rainbow arise, yeah.. those were the good days. The works of our imagination might of gotten a chance of both Billy, and I.. however too small to bloom, we didn’t get the chance to do the things we wanted like, be somewhat wealthy and have a house to live in, eat a meal, or even have decent clothes. The old trailer house we did live in got burned down, Billy’s old friend Chester set it on fire, that’s when we both became apart from the world and in our own. Our words soon got replaced with a humming motionless nothing, meant to be something. We were afraid of the world, afraid of sinning and afraid of what might happen the next day. We were normal, and as far as I can see to it we were everything to each other. I wish there were a chance I’d finally get again to fall heavy in her arms, but only in my dreams can that happen. As I lay here alone under the edge of the overpass, I watch the clouds go by and know that she really is there, and I hope to god that she will wait for me.