One Hundred Years

I was standing in that corner waiting for a reason to be there. I mentally berated myself for deciding to venture to this place on my own. Against better judgment I decided to try it out anyway. Dark crimson and bright embers of color block my vision while billows of smoke cloud my senses. How often it is that my actions are determined by outside interference. I saw you across the floor steadily approaching me--that much I could tell. I looked away assuming you were headed toward a different path. You stood there, questioning, lazily grinning in front of me. What was it that I was supposed to do? I don't know why but you're toying with my sense of adventure right now. Step into my corner and perhaps I can better snuff you out. Words aren't important now; I was never one for small talk. Cinnamon. It's hot and sweet, and so is the embrace. I've never felt a need this great until you. I roam your valleys and fall into the comfort of your being. I let the actions do the talking and the music set the tone. I don't know who you are or why you chose me but I know that I'm not letting you go. For once I'm justified in my choice and I couldn't have felt better.

I feel you slipping away. You're detaching yourself from me and I'm detaching myself from this feeling.