Do You Know What I'm Seeing? // Marrissey

Say Yes

I'm in love with the world

Through the eyes of a girl

Who's still around the morning after

There was a dark shadow casted next to him while he walked beside the pavement of the hot spring day in Manchester. The cars ran through him and the sounds of the city rested in his ears. His bookbag was swinging at each step he took, and had his hands on the inside of the pockets of his school uniform. The sky was bright blue as Steven eye's and the clouds cleared themselves. The ray of the sun made everything brighter around him and another puff of smoke came out of Johnny's lips.

It was the next day after Steven offered him and his friend to come inside of the house. It was only him going. Pomfret wanted him to phone him instead if Steven wanted to be in the band.

I t's always been, wait and see

A happy day and then you pay

And feel like shit the morning' after

Johnny reached the house to the right. He walked to the doorstep, and gently knocked on the fine made wooden door. He heard footsteps inside and It was Steven again wearing his torn sweater and jeans.

"Come in," Steven lent out a hand.

Johnny took his hand and he kicked off his shoes. He left them on the rug inside of the house in front of the door. Steven closed the door behind him and smelled the cinnamon brewing through the living room. He saw in the kitchen counter that Steven made him tea and toast.

Steven brought him the plate and the toast was spread with rich creamy butter. The crust was perfectly burnt and little pieces of crisps fell off the side of the bread.

"Thank you again," Johnny gleam.

Steven gave his approval and directed him to his room again. Johnny walked behind him like a duckling to it's mama. Johnny entered the taller boys room and never failed to be amazed about Steven's room. He looked at the typewriter on top of his desk, and there was a poem in the works with books stacked beside it.

"What are you working on?" Johnny asked innocently.

"Don't know," Steven shifted his chin higher.

Johnny took out the paper and read the poem Steven was working on. The same story was told about Angie's poem. They had an ongoing conclusion of love being in despair and causing a catastrophic casualty. He gently set the paper down to the typewriter again and looked into Steven's mourning eyes.

Steven brought his palm to his lips and shifted his head to the side. He curled himself on his bed, and Johnny looked at the boy's menacing behavior. He brought himself closer to Steven, and Steven looked at him longingly. Johnny shifted himself next to Steven and couldn't help but stare at Steven's strange characteristics.

His shaggy black hair shunned brown in the daylight. His blue eyes pierced his face, causing him to have a more dynamic look. Johnny knew this was his favorite part about him, just like how it is with Angie.

He also shared the interest of an Angie, his depressive writing style, his strange behavior, and his way of communicating with words. Angie was no different, she too did share a lot in common with Steven.

Angie wasn't strange though. She wasn't this bizarre unlike Steven. Steven was more on the alienated side of society. Man refused to act and dress like him. Man would not want to resemble themselves to a flamboyant isolate boy.