New York

February 22, 2009
By Alex Worrell BRONZE, New Delhi, Other
Alex Worrell BRONZE, New Delhi, Other
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Dwindling stars drifted above us, it was quiet.....calm. We lay sprawled across a flimsy blanket cushioned by the grass. The cheap wine spurned our thoughts, blurred the sky. The gleam from the city and its haze hung low wisping around lonely streets, next to lonely houses, where lonely people need their TV?s to feel safe, to usher them to sleep. Your eyes reflected the stars, reflected hope, and what you thought I thought you need. I clasped your fingers tight between mine, our knuckles meeting painfully, I could be happy here; I could be happy with you. My life is doused in disarray, in complete anxiety, pinned to the ground by swirling gravity; with no capability to breathe. She could be my air, she could be my ship. The night would sweep by filled with slapdash laughter and tingling skin, we would sip our thoughts away, we would hope the sun would never rise; and when we would wake up oblivious to the fog and the empty wine bottle discarded in the grass, our lives would go on unchanged by this night. Unchanged by the stars, unchanged by the fire blazing in your heart and my mind, because life would not bend the rules for us; it would never let us get out alive.

I often think only you could save my life.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!