In a perfect world, we can do whatever we desire
There would be no responsibilities
In a perfect world, we can go wherever we yearn
There would be no boundaries
In a perfect world, we can say whatever we feel
There would be no repercussions
In a perfect world, we can think however we want
There would be no worries
In a perfect world, it will just be you and me
There would be no distractions
“Make it two, and quick,” he muttered. And under his breath, he added without conviction, “She’ll be here in a minute.”
Not that the bartender cared, really. His concern was to tend to the drinks, not the emotions.
He shifted again on the stool, watching the droplets form on the glass as the ice melted.
The seconds passed and so did the minutes. People came and people went. Still she did not arrive. Still he waited. And waited.
"All these pain will only make you stronger," he promised.
Little did he know 'pain' was no longer on her mind, at least not now, 'death' was.
A deliberate slit, a crimson river.
A soaring phoenix, a single purpose.
A hundred candies, a stifled laughter.
A smokey dancefloor, a dreamless slumber.
A thousand ways to reach one end.
