Bolt from the blue

That bee-stung linger in my head, so do the sparks of your sphericals

It was a peerless stint

The thing that could kill me yet made me feel alive.

The kind of sad that could drive me so happy to feel it.



They had the same kind of dynamites backthen, 

She held hers,tight 

And so did he, but not for long till he blazed his fuze

“None of your fault” she said, “i let you sit beside me backthen”.

“Sorry, you will be okay” he left her with schorches fulfill her body

“I will” she said, quietly.