crap i wrote a year ago
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There was just something purely intimate about it.
Lips grazing the lightly damp microphone like a lovers caress, eyes closed tightly as a strong unique voice belted out his heart and soul for the world to hear.
His fingertips were red, almost bleeding as his strummed harshly against the guitar, having been so into the moment he had throw his last guitar pick into the crowd, only uses his soft fingertips against the instrument. The pain was creating pleaser though; or himself and thousands of others.
He kept his eyes closed as he slowly, but surly sang the lovely, confusing lyrics he had imprinted in his memory the day he listened to the angel of his dreams sang them to him.
He glanced threw sweaty bangs, smirking as he watched the tall thin boy in his richly decorated state play his heart out, knowing how much this meant to him, how much it it turn meant for himself. Aw yes. Purely intimate.
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as in the subject this is just some crap slash panic stuff i found that managed to survive from when my laptop crashed <.<. IT WAS HORRIBLE! well whoever like it...thank you! :)