It's the early evening sunsets; the sun's goodnight yawn.
It's the feeling of afternoon car rides with windows and down and radios loud.
It's the taste of a quick kiss after a sweet, crisp apple.
Leaves dancing over fingers hidden in long sleeved sweaters.
The swirling air around a party for two, flailing arms and helpless laughs, faces warmed with good times.
Strums of guitars and empty solo cups, beats on the side of a thigh.
It's the tapping of computer keys and left mouse buttons.
The glow of a familiar smile, lips parted and teeth bared.
But it's also the feeling of being burnt out.
Used too much and being tossed aside. It's the agony of muddy thoughts.
The depths of self torture.
The sunset of The End.
