xBabyxGrapex

Her name originates from something similar to her. Created from something so ugly, That, with growth, morphs into something valuable and precious. A Pearl. Every time I gaze upon her windows, I can see only the letter. The crowd does not help, with their unforgiving stares, And crude remarks. I am pained. I cannot ever reveal the identity of my lover. A significant official and a spiritual advisor, The crowd is evermore lead by him. My lips are sealed. I met him again today. I thought he was dead, which is where my desire originated, Through impulse, I acted. My soul dances for two. The letter is red and gold. Red, for my p

Excerpt 1:     She reached for her tan messenger bag that laid limply on the floor. It waited for someone to bring it to life. It would, eventually, hang from Angie's left shoulder. Suddenly, she realized that she had forgotten the most important object of her life. In realizing so, she kicked her messenger bag out of the way, ran up the stairs, and into her room.    She looked into the furthest corner of her room. She walked slowly over to Layla, her left-handed Breedlove acoustic guitar. Layla was dressed in a lovely shade of cedar. Layla wore a beautiful necklace. It's background was black and multicolored hearts were placed sporadica

The music started slow, but they danced fast. When the music sped up, they danced slow, so the moment would last. He looked into her eyes. She looked in his. This dance overflowed with lies; It lacked love, but produced sweet lust. The music wouldn't stop. It was like a voice in their heads. The beat continued steady, until they both were dead.