Writing is like talking to a beautiful woman. Pelt her with shoddy words and badly composed sentences and she slaps you and walks away. Splash her full of ink and you only get a cheap **** with ripped stockings and too many scratched out tattoo's.

But,

Caress her with your pen, stroke her with loving splendor, decorate her with words and sentences like sparkling diamonds and you have her attention. Use old pick up lines and you entertain her, for a while. Be yourself and speak from the soul and you entertain her for a life time.

bright green eyes open.

ice in my veins as I hear the sound
green eyes flicker to him
for a moment of a heart beat frozen in time
release of breath

running in the hall to reach the future
running in the hall to save a lost soul
running in the hall to see him praying

on his knees, alone, confused, lost

green eyes flicker
green eyes flicker to red blood on white collar
green eyes flicker
green eyes flicker to words leaving trembling lips
green eyes flicker,
green eyes flicker to tears of the future,
                                carefully formed by the present

the memories tear my soul apart,
the blue flickering lights
the neon orange jackets, stern voices

the black denial that hurts,
hurts.
green eyes flicker
blue lights flicker

so ******* alone in the hall,
footsteps, merely echo of the past
green eyes flicker, tears forcefully fall
green eyes flicker, whom should I call
green eyes flicker, sliding down the wall

dark green eyes close.