It all happens one night.

She comes to you, banging on the door, crying.

With rattles of glass and a clanging of metal,

You travel clumsily to the door,

Fumbling for the door knob as her sobs grow louder.

She falls into your arms, clutching your filthy shirt.

All it takes it one word.

And then you're crying, holding her closer, collaspsing onto the floor.

Not because of her weight, but of the

burden

upon your shoulders

that suffocates you daily;

crushing your heart, strangling your lungs,

killing you slowly

from the inside out

in it's iron grip.

You're falling, falling,

down.

down..

down...

The wretched sobs turn into slight sniffles as the grief turns into

anger.

Anger at the world, at life, at everything.

But not her.

She's your anchor, your reason for living, your love,

your

E

V

E

R

Y

T

H

I

N

G

.

In a flurry of motion, you're both connected,

your lips burning as you whole body catches on fire.

In the grief, the sadness, the hatred,

comes your love.

"Fred,"

she

whispers.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.

That was rubbish, honestly. Gods, remind me never to do this again. /buries head in shame

Written solely for starry reason. I hope you like it, in spite of how rubbish it is. I did try, really.

God, can you even tell it's George and Angelina? I'm such a failure.