These nights completely depress me. And the fact that You're there, Angel; that makes it worse... You're there, waiting by the phone just like me. God, that breaks my heart.
People sometimes treat you miserably. I don't know, perhaps they forget they love you. They take for granted that you've forgiven them every time they've wronged you before and so it keeps piling up. But it's disgustingly painful, isn't it?
Then, after all the pain and hurt subside--after their most recent crime, now long gone in the distant evening--something takes over you. You realize that the song that's playing in the background is perfect. Love Should. Moby strikes you as a genius, for the mere second that you make this discovery, and then you go back to thinking of those all around you. They're all relaxing in warmest beds right now, wrapped tight in those covers that protect them from the dark - and from the cold.
But you're sitting all alone; no covers. Darkness. Cold. Loneliness.
This'll be a long night.
Adonis
{kwoo§hie}* said...
beautifully sincere.
the Angel's by you.