the sound of ice and snow crunching under our feet side by side.
along the desolate road are rows and rows of buildings forgotten by time.
swirling in the air above us are clouds of our breath.
we continue our walk down the pavement with toes going numb in our shoes and our noses redder than rudolph.
to our left sits a pile of snow, despite the below-freezing temperature outside we grab handfuls of snow and fling them at one another.
when we can no longer feel our fingertips we call a truce and continue on our way.
the only sounds besides our voices are owls and water dripping from icicles.
we cross over the vine-covered icy bridge slipping over the icy leaves and fall on our backs one too many times.
we walk up the small path to the chapel across the street and make our way inside.
graffiti covers all of the remaining pews and despite it being pitch black i can tell that you look astonished.
our eyes slowly adjust over the span of the hours we're there and i can see you clearly now.
despite being red from the cold, you're still the most beautiful thing i'd ever laid my eyes on.
we sit on the stage isolated from the outside world and talk about our hopes and dreams.
the sounds of our laughs ricocheting around the small building filling it with joy,
our cheeks hurting from it all.
i'd never seen you so happy.
if only i had told you how i felt that night, maybe things would be different now.
YOU ARE READING
Behind My Eyes.
Puisicome pick my mind and stay awhile, make yourself comfortable. it's awfully lonely in here. - inside this book, you'll find five distinct parts: simply me, which tells you almost everything you need to know about me. you, which tells you...
