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Seasoned Soul  by mylifeasvia

It was a cold December night when you kissed my soul. It was a hot summer night when you whispered into my heart. It was a windswept morning when you tore my tenderness. This is all so new to me, I didnt know how to handle it. I've never felt so much pain. You took my innocence and my soul with you. Sitting in a broken chair with notes and letters we wrote. Thinking of how we could never be together as one, ever again. Arising from that rusty old chair and descending downstairs to the living room where old cob webs lay on the couches and dust lays on every inch of wood that can be found. I ignore the where the memories lay, turn around, and walk outside to the porch and look at the bleak sky and remembering all those nights we lied on the pavement of the driveway and dicussing about the most randomnest of things. Those were the pleasurable times. The times when we had ear to ear smiles on our faces everytime we layed eyes upon each other. Walking from the porch away from the house we both shared, I walk down the secluded road with letters in one hand and a French Press Bag in the other. A knit hat rest on my head and a scarf around my neck and the necklace you gave me for my 18th birthday is settled under the scarf. The wind is blowing and I see that rain is about to pour. I hurry to your doorstep. When I make it, I softly press the doorbell with my fragile finger...there you are, looking flawless as always, but I can see pain in your eyes, like you have been crying as well as I have been. You ask for me to come in to talk. As I step in, I see the old picture of us situated on your coffee table. You haven't put it down like I have at my home. You lead me to your sette, and as I sit, you lean over to whisper into my heart the words that I fell for the first day...

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  'Seasoned Soul' statistics: (click to read)
Date created: Jan. 28, 2011
Date published: Jan. 28, 2011
Comments: 0
Tags: heartbroken, love, old-times
Word Count: 361
Times Read: 491
Story Length: 1