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Jordan Newman Jordan Newman
Recommendations: 15

attempt rough

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i see angels above me, i see demons below me, fighting over heaven.
i loved her more when i was sober.
i don't want a second chance.
love starts with that of a flickerin' cigarette
i swear i could feel your love before i knew your name.

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She had a friend.

I was so lost in my day dream I can't recall how many bangs had tried to shatter my door frame. It had to have been quite a while; fore it first appeared in my fantasy before I realized it was something from the exterior of my day dream that influenced the noise. My eyes were slow to open; because the Sandman had been extra kind that night, so it seemed by the crust that fought to keep my eyes closed. Too be honest if the bang hadn't been so persistent and with such forceful urgency, I may have just ignored it all together, wrote it off as part of my dream.

The first thing I remember looking at was my clock. Rather I should say, my clock was the first thing I looked at as I tried to decipher the time through blurry eye vision; because the Sandman had been viscous and ruthless that evening, even after violently rubbing at my eyelashes when I tried to open them fully an uncomfortable pain came along. This along should have been an omen to continue with my slumber; but as I adjusted to comprehending what I was looking at through blurred vision, I knew sleep was out of the question.

The bang at my door had begun to fade from a rapid pace with strong pounds to a melody too erratic to predict; and each pound was becoming more like a wood peckers soft, 'rat-a-tat-tat,' yet I remained slow to demand forth a declaration of whom disturbed me at nearly half past four in the am. Just as suddenly as the noise came it just as unexpectedly stopped. I strained with all my might to try and hear what was happening outside of my home; however it was done in vain, due to the oddly brisk August evening my window's were tightly closed. All I was able to hear was my clock's constantly predictable tick as it continued to mimic a metronome; I envisioned somewhere death Himself patiently tapping his bony finger on my mortality's hour glass.

I rose painfully slow to my feet; but not out of attempts to be a sooth, rather because my joints groaned and moaned in agony. "Shit," I unwillingly screamed out as I accidentally put my bare feet onto the tile floor that lined the entire floor of my house. A shiver ran up my spine; and in order to locate where I had kicked my slippers off, I flicked on the room's light. Whomever was at my door returned to knocking just as quickly as the electricity soared to give life to my ceiling's bulb.

The bang-bang was more violent than it had been a few minutes ago; and out of habit, I turned off the light, I suppose I had foolishly hoped that whomever it was would again cease banging if I turned the light off. Like I said, it was foolish. My door found no refuge from the onslaught of its assailants blows.

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