ZEPHYR
No promise sweeter than a blood pact
Nothing harder to go through with
than a vanishing act
Nothing harder to go through with
than a vanishing act
Awkward indeed; you continue on in that uncomfortable silence, feeling the weight of it more acutely than the cold. But honestly, what were you supposed to say? Oh no I'm going to terribly miss you blue-balling me once a week? Not particularly.
I value that time and the intimacy of it and the trust you put in me? Well, yeah, but it's more complicated than that. An complicated just isn't something you do that well.
His house is nice, small and simple and suitable for him, you think. The whole town is a far cry from anything you've really seen before, cramped and grey and weirdly decrepit, as though only half of it were alive. It makes you feel claustrophobic, and you pull your coat tighter around your shoulders in an attempt to keep the ghosts who doubtlessly live here at bay.
When Sam opens the door you peer in curiously over his shoulder, suddenly feeling very nosy about where the man lives. You do not expect a fucking cat to come charging out of the dusty, apparently empty house. "You jus' left your cat here?" you ask, blinking back surprise and taking a step away as Sam turns, his arms full of very pretty fluff. Somehow, more than anything he has ever done or told you, this it is this which catches you off guard. "Uh- yeah. I guess. 'Cept Ki'll pitch a fit. How's it still alive?"
I value that time and the intimacy of it and the trust you put in me? Well, yeah, but it's more complicated than that. An complicated just isn't something you do that well.
His house is nice, small and simple and suitable for him, you think. The whole town is a far cry from anything you've really seen before, cramped and grey and weirdly decrepit, as though only half of it were alive. It makes you feel claustrophobic, and you pull your coat tighter around your shoulders in an attempt to keep the ghosts who doubtlessly live here at bay.
When Sam opens the door you peer in curiously over his shoulder, suddenly feeling very nosy about where the man lives. You do not expect a fucking cat to come charging out of the dusty, apparently empty house. "You jus' left your cat here?" you ask, blinking back surprise and taking a step away as Sam turns, his arms full of very pretty fluff. Somehow, more than anything he has ever done or told you, this it is this which catches you off guard. "Uh- yeah. I guess. 'Cept Ki'll pitch a fit. How's it still alive?"
Though you repent and don sackcloth
and try to make nice
You can’t cross the same river twice
and try to make nice
You can’t cross the same river twice
