Piece By Piece.

It began in the trees. Every time the wind blew, I could hear his name being whispered on the tips of the mountain tops, beckoning me.

It continued throughout the morning; the smell of foreign foods cooking delicately in the sun, with no people to disturb the atmosphere, and no rain to wash away the stains.

It continued throughout the afternoon. The music shouting at me. Piercing the dreams in my head with pictures in my heart. Tea warming slightly on the pine-layered table. Smiles shadowing faces of strangers with faces of love. Into the night...

It continued. Bodies pressed against one another in shy disruption. Tears aching the face showing happiness and frustration. It continued. Tired faces, tired eyes. Hand in hand. The music still hinders me.

It finished during the night. The car pulled up and disgraced the scene of beauty; for before me stood an angel. Embraced. Caressed. Continued. Left.

It finished, online with dreams and dilemmas. To follow, or to flee. Come to me. Or haunt me.

Boneata Bell. 15:36. 19 years of age.

[Do not be big headed enough to believe this is about you -
Yet do not be naive enough to believe that it is not.]


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