pure imagination from willy wonka, played on piano by philip ---
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the light seemed to scramble over the countless buildings that adorned tyler's sight as he stared at the setting sun from his small apartment balcony. a burning cigarette was in between his two shaking fingers sometimes leaving them to rest on his chapped lips.
he always ended up here, smoking the last cigarette of his pack for the day as he stands by himself with a pen and blank page of his notebook resting on the railing of his balcony.
his thoughts were swarmed by events that had filled the day; the lukewarm coffee that was only used for warming his hands, the blanket of air that seemed to shower the space in front of him whenever he breathed out into the cold air as he past random people who could care less, the feeling in his stomach even his feet dangled off the tall bridge as his mind looked for excuses.
seems to repeat everyday until it ended up here with tyler shakily letting the smoke leave his lips as his nose grew red from the cold he so carelessly stood in.
the cigarette was soon stubbed against the rusting rails as he traded it for a dull pencil.
with his ever shaking hands, webbed with purple veins, he wrote in his book.
'stars haven't left, only the others'
once it was written, his hands ripped the page out of the thinned out book. Tyler, folding it with great care, then dropped it over the edge of his platform. it slowed floated down, swinging back and forth before it was covered by the darkness below.
with misty eyes and a sad look painted on his face, tyler closed the book and went inside his little home.
