Stay High

There is no feeling to be felt. No more sounds to be heard. No more colors to shine. All there is, is blank silence, and grey skies. The same grey sky shows dully as the first match is lit, and the butt of the cigarette is in flames. Then there is one sound though; a passing radio plays the right music, to express exactly how the atmosphere is inside of the minds of Marshall Simmons and Tessa Day;

'You're gone and I got to stay high
All the time to keep you off my mind
High all the time to keep you off my mind
Spend my days locked in a haze,
Trying to forget you babe, I fall back down
Got to stay high all my life to forget I'm missing you

Staying in my play pretend
Where the fun ain't got no end
Can't go home alone again
Need someone to numb the pain'

They've both lost everyone; it's time someone was found.

(This is a slow moving story feelings wise. No automatic feelings or "Wtf, you just met them" reactions. I personally loathe types of stories like that, so I get the struggle perfectly.)