cigarette butts on the ash tray.
a bouquet of white roses
neatly tied together with a note
stuck that read, sorry in a sloppy
cursive way. resting on the
on the chair like it was given
couple of hours ago. paintings of
their love hung on cream colored walls.
i've always wondered what it feels like to step onto a crime scene. just felt like writing this as lately i've been watching too many crime documentaries. entirely a figment from imagination btw.