The boy
Original date: 5-10-2005
The boy sits there thinking, looking at his ceiling, wondering if she's gonna call. That pale yellow light used to give that sense of warmth he was always longing for, but now the bulb wants to shatter like his heart. It never rains anymore, he doesn't care. It's that hot muggy night, the one where you lie naked on cool sheets. He remembers her face and voice, but wonders if the heat is clouding his memory. Some things he can't remember quite clearly, some things he wishes he could forget. The girl came in so fast, like a sudden storm on a small town. She left him no room, wanted all of him. But quick as she came, she was gone again, leaving a mess of him once more. You could say he loved her, was in love with her. But then again you could say a lot of things about the boy. Didn't really matter if it was all true or not, it still kept the folks in town talkin. They were gonna get married, in that big cathedral on the hill. It was always perfect there, she would say. Birds chirpin and sun shinin on a barely cloudy day. Such things are no more, thinks the boy. Now if only that phone would ring.
The boy sits there thinking, looking at his ceiling, wondering if she's gonna call. That pale yellow light used to give that sense of warmth he was always longing for, but now the bulb wants to shatter like his heart. It never rains anymore, he doesn't care. It's that hot muggy night, the one where you lie naked on cool sheets. He remembers her face and voice, but wonders if the heat is clouding his memory. Some things he can't remember quite clearly, some things he wishes he could forget. The girl came in so fast, like a sudden storm on a small town. She left him no room, wanted all of him. But quick as she came, she was gone again, leaving a mess of him once more. You could say he loved her, was in love with her. But then again you could say a lot of things about the boy. Didn't really matter if it was all true or not, it still kept the folks in town talkin. They were gonna get married, in that big cathedral on the hill. It was always perfect there, she would say. Birds chirpin and sun shinin on a barely cloudy day. Such things are no more, thinks the boy. Now if only that phone would ring.
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