I want to run my fingers through his hair and wrap him in my arms, feel the way he relaxes as we sit here together.

His breath hitches as he laughs and I can't help but stare a little while longer.

what use to be our place is now taken over
people who were once just like us seeped through the cracks
and polluted the air like creeping trendils of smoke and vile ideas.

Ideas thrown up like simply created graffiti
not always welcome but interesting to wonder about in the silence
ideas of the future, of what we could do if we put our minds to it.

Feelings that got interrupted on one side
but disregarded on the other
left to drift apart rather then sail together.

I plug my headphones in
The music echoing like pleas of wanted freedom

This town is dying.

No cars on the roads
No sound on the streets

Ghost town.

The apartments forsaken
The stores losing business
The people losing interest

Of a dead town