So here I stand. On the edge of what is real, at the corner of self hope. It doesn't look so far down, I'll probably have a heart attack in the air anyways. I'm not afraid of death, I'm just afraid of what I may miss when I die. But right now I could care less of some sort of mental clarity, its never been a friend of mine, but look at where we stand now. On the edge of what is real. Should I plummet to my freakin death or stay just a while longer than usual on a case that I can (and if caught) will go to prison forever on? I've always liked trouble and its always found its way back home to my basement and now I know what it is.. My soul.
215 days since the last man in the bar, and I barely have anything new. Phillip and I are quite distant now, he doesn't talk anymore. As for me, I've been searching this little town for the longest time now, I've moved on from Connecticut, I realized what I was looking for certainly wasn't there. Its about 12:25, and it is pitch black outside, I can't see my florescent green shoe laces, what a pity, they are so cute!
"Hey! Stop or I'll shoot!!"
I've been chasing this nightmare in crimson clothing for the past 5 nights. Its rather hard now, since Phillip moved on, its just me now. Turns out he wasn't the guy for me, hhhhh, my sister was right, I'm always 5th best I see.
This cowering bozo kept running, I had the guts to shoot but what if he was the killer? I chased him up an old abandon apartment building fire escape. With every step I stayed cautious as a snake, the creaks and squeals of the steps helped me to realize, the only thing between me and catching this crook or me and losing him forever, is a freshly squatted flight of stairs, we made our way to the top of one of the high-rise platforms and back to another raggedy set of stairs.
Silently I though
'You're not getting away this time thieving freak'
I jumped and stomped the stairs and just as I hoped, both the crook and I were falling headlong at the first building top. Screaming for our lives, knowing we were dead.