user since
Sun Feb 21 2010 at 04:53:29 (9.4 years ago )
last seen
Mon Mar 22 2010 at 10:23:27 (9.3 years ago )
level / experience
0 (Initiate) / 0
Send private message to Your Little One

There were lights and music. Every time I hear rap now I think of you. Almost as though you are there in front of me, swaying to the music cigarette in one and and a bottle in the other. You would look at me for a second, smile, turn your head back to the computer and pick another song. I was on the bed watching you so close in that chair, almost touching. Every time I went to kiss you, you would motion me back as you continued to dance in your seat. It wasn't fair how I fell for you so hard. You, with your perfect smile and taste of cigarettes.
Its become my secret pleasure. Knowing that with one motion I can taste you. Even when you are 300 miles away. Pick one up light it, let the smoke roll over bed and clothes. How else will I smell like you? 300 miles is to far, even memories are distant.
When I sat there, outside of a house, listening to music, watching lights, and hearing the voices so similar to ours on those nights. I can almost taste you, almost smell you, almost... almost feel you. Watching as they go through their lives wishing to be a part. From the outside looking in, I'm sure I wanted to be there because I knew you would. That is your thing. Maybe the thing that attracted me to you.

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