Don't Speak

Don't speak. There's no need for words for the both of us. Emotions are enough. Just emotions. Flowing, sweeping, like electricity through my veins.

You know how you make me feel, don't you? Like it's never enough. That I've got to higher, further than anything or anywhere I've ever been before.

I love you. But you already knew that, didn't you? I hope so. I've never been a vocal guy, even after you came into my life. I probably never will. But now, I'd give the whole world, just to let you know how you make me feel.

Even as I sit here. In the dark room. Drawn blinds, walls painted a dull blue, the stereos on loud. They're playing some English song. I don't understand it, but it fits.

Don't speak

Don't speak…

Don't speak. I think you can't anyway. And I don't want to hear you speak either. Silence is better.

I refuse to believe it. It can't be true. Not you. You were always so alive, so bouncy, so…red. I cradle you tighter in my arms, trying desperately to keep those who are trying to take you away from me. I stare right up to the ceiling. Cracks, spidery lines everywhere. Before I hit ground with the truth, looking down at you.

You look so deflated, all the life gone, just gone out of you. There's a hole in my heart, you tell me through our silent communication. And the life's going out through that hole. Seeping, mingling with the common air.

When I'm gone, you will replace me. You won't sink down into a bog of despair. It's better that way. And it's an order.

One which I refuse to accept.

There's only one of you in the world. Only one of you in my life. No replacement.

I rub my cheek against your rough skin, refusing to let you go, even to your last moments. We'll go away somewhere. Anywhere. Wherever you want to go, I will follow. We'll go somewhere where you'll get better, and we'll live happily ever after. We'll play together all over the world, in Japan, in New York, in London, in Rome. Wherever there is a court, there'll be us.

They say I'm a cold frigid bastard. I don't care what they think, I don't care if I really am a cold frigid bastard. There's you, and that's all that matters.

It's my fault. All my fault. I kept pressuring you, throwing you around at times. I didn't know you'd take it so hard. It's my fault, and you can't tell me otherwise. You tell me you forgive me, but I can't forgive myself.

Its time, and you slowly, bit by bit, look less full of spirit and life, as the life blood in you ebbs away. Away… away…

I still cling on, all the while knowing that its useless.

You're going…

You're going…

You're gone.

I sink down to my feet, tears coming out, and I'm sobbing, tears racking my frame. Wetting you. Why God? Why this? Why?

I truly loved you.

My basketball.

I'm just so sorry I lost the pump.

The End

Gotcha! Heh. Seee? I do write angst and drama and serious stuff. I just couldn't take it all seriously you see…

Oh. And I'm sorry I lied that it was drama when it probably should be humor. It is, however, both a deathfic and romance genre. The basketball died for heaven's sake!

http://lazyyellow.fateback.com/