Ugggh, birthday crap.
Title: A Low Murmur, A Soft Cry
Author: Me, le dur.
Pairing: Paul and someone else. O:
Rating: Pg? G?
Warnings: Dumb attempt at poetry, slightly taken from Jolllllle in a way, Moody Blueseyness, dunno
Timeframe: Pfff, anytime.
Word count: Uh...93..
Summary: Waiting
Author Notes: I wish I knew how to LJ cut. Fuckthisshit. And listen to the EVENING part of the Moody Blues song Tuesday Afternoon. The full version.
Disclaimer: Fakefakefakefake.
It's days like these,
nights like these
that he finds himself alone.
He waits a while
feeling he won't come home.
So he walks outside
cigarette in his fist
and he thinks,
the air in his lungs becoming a mist.
Late evening.
No sign.
No sight.
A soft sigh,
breaks the silence of the dark.
Maddening
silence
choking
silence.
He hears the door open behind him
arms wrap around,
the light dim.
A low murmur of kindness in his ears,
melt away all his prior fears.