Don't Don't tell me it wasn't real. As we lay there; our bodies intertwined, a tangled mess within a cotton world. You pressed your chapped lips to mine and whispered secrets into my mouth. Don't tell me you didn't mean every word. You held me in your arms so tightly we could feel one another's pulses. That was when you said you loved me. Don't tell me you were lying. Don't you dare.

The Walk Home. I step from the humid bus into the stagnant climate of late Summer. Spluttering as I inhale the thick, polluted air I follow the concrete trail. Hanging low from the sky, ink-stained cotton wool threatens to flood this pre-apocalyptic dystopia. For a moment I consider the possible effects of a second Great Flood, tripping over a decomposing cat I conclude that destruction could only improve this over-inhabited shit hole. As my gaze drifts to the heavens I notice the first few droplets of rain. Better get to work on that ark...