Shedding my metaphorical skin in a small town public bathroom.

Hold me up to the flickering light of a dingy alleyway,

And cleanse my soul with raspberry cider.

Static embellishes the pentagonal space as you stand dressed in black, holding a headrush in your hands.

Escaping the rain into this space of timelessness. The only thing certain about our temporary cover was the filth that remained 'neath the deep blue tiles.

Engrave killer into me as though I am cheap plastic as I press the bottle to my lips.

Nostalgia was there in the smallest corner of the room, watching, waiting for his time to strike when the memory of opening an exploding bottle in a public bathroom's sink had began to fade.

Smelling of alcohol and nattering about nothing I laughed.

Our minds are strangely beautiful, and together they speak volumes.

Watching the storm rage was comforting as we thought of dapperness, and thought of criminal activity.

The previous night was nothing short of surreal, and carrying that feeling along made everything have a strange endearment to it.

Everything had softer edges as I stumbled into the back seat.

Droplets streaking down the windows were mesmerizing as front-seat conversations blurred out of my own relevance.

I was everywhere and nowhere all at the same time.

Questions being asked of me passed me like the street signs as I stifled a laugh as I thought of looking at you as you tell me of the times you had trapped in this hellhole.

Looking back on it now, we should've watched the rain for a little longer under the eave of that storefront.

Watched time slow, as it usually does when I'm with you.

I enjoy every second we spend together, you deserve way more credit than you get.

Even bad influences have some spark of good intention within them.

You are my favourite bad influence, if I should even call you that.

5 Kudos