The lines are intimidating,
They radiate blue perfection from the page...

Breathe,
In and out...

Running.
Can't you feel it...

Held in the grip of the Reaper,
I watch my friends slink away...

This was my part of the Creative Writing's Talent...
How many times have you walked down these halls...

Water dries slowly on my windowsill,
The sun fades from the horizon...

The ground is hard,
Impenetrable...

A year has past,
And still I wait...

Calling,
Speaking...

We seem to be getting distant..
We seem like we're far apart...

How does one tell,
Secrets kept dear...

Can't believe what you make me feel,
When I hear your voice, I melt...