Story inspired by swans-unkle bob.

please critisize, and tell me what's wrong, thanks.


"Do you love me?" I would question her each morning when the sun pierced through the heavens of clouds.

And each morning she would reply with the same answer. "I don't know, but whatever I do, no matter what it is, you have to promise me one thing."

The golden beams would seep through the heavy velvet curtains; the rays would cast an angelic glow on her features. Her long dark lashes would contrast against her pinkish cheeks, and cherry lips. Everything would be dim in the room, everything besides the veil of golden rays capturing her and I.

"Yes, anything," I would nod, and her eyes would flutter open, "I'll promise you anything." I would grasp her shoulders gently and I'd plant a kiss her forehead, assuring her that anything, no matter what, I would be there for her.

"You have to trust me when I tell you that I love you." The beams of light would shine onto her honey colored hair, making her even more beautiful, but somehow I know that she's lying. Somewhere in the dark corners of the room there would be pulsing, there would be sounds of strangling and screaming, there would be shadows projecting on the walls, her and I, turning round, and round, and round.

"Sarah," I would say to her as I closed my eyes to shield myself from the poison leaking into the windows of my soul. "Sarah, I love you." I would hold her closer, hold her tighter and I would inhale in her scent, her consistent natural scent of rose petals. Her scent would swirl around me, it would be my remedy, and I would open my eyes to the illuminated world of the warm sun rising into the horizon, everything would be alright again.

By my side
You'll never be
By my side
You'll never be

"Have you ever thought of what would happen if we died, would you think that maybe we will meet each other again, in different forms of life?" I would lay her head on my chest, and we would stare up at the ivory ceiling together. The grandfather clock in the far corner would always strike twelve. "Maybe we could be the waves of the ocean, or even the howling in the winds. I'd like to be the love between two people with you though, we would grow and flourish and learn like them, and you would never leave me…"

The moon is slivery, it tints her face, making her features porcelain, there is silence within her lips, she does not answer me. Instead she would say, "Lloyd…" Her voice would be a hush whisper, and there would be a hidden bitterness to it almost as if she were shaking her head saying "No Lloyd, no I mustn't be with you forever…"

And she was right, I woke up one lovely morning with the sun hovering over the gleaming waters rolling at sea, and she was gone.

Cause I'm fake at the seams
Lost in my dreams
And I want you to know
That I can't let you go

She would say to me, "Tell me what love is, I used to know, but I have forgotten." Her eyes, crystal brown would eat me in. "Is it when you hold me? Is it because you'll never let me go? Or is it because I am scared of what will happen?" There would be neediness reflecting her eyes from the core of her heart, she would plead, "Show me what love is, I whish I knew, why do we have to love?"

"Sarah…" I would breathe into her breasts, and I would show her what love is. Her body against mine tucking me inside her warmth, I would show her every wonder within the four walls of this asylum, out asylum.

Blood curdling cries, her frail body would start shaking violently, her flesh would become feverish, "What is love?" She would murmur harshly over and over and over and over. Sarah is sick.

I will myself awake, sweat is dotting along my forehead. Tides of uneasiness washes through me and the feeling of her clammy hands pressed firm against my body remains. The firmness is squeezing and clenching my insides, squeezing and clenching until nothing will be left but a hollow emptiness.

Sarah is sick, but I am even more sick than Sarah because she is gone.

And you're never coming home again
And you're never coming home again

She was completely stripped. Her wrists were brownish red from the dried blood under the duct tape that bound her to the headboard of the bed. Her legs had been tied spread eagle. With each trust he drilled farther into her, blood oozed down the length of her inner thighs, coating her in a warm death.

Sarah watched, her eyes never leaving the women. "Mama…mama!" She screamed running over to the bed reaching out a little hand. Her own screams perfect in harmony with her mother's. "Mama, don't die, mama can you hear me? It's Sarah, it's Sarah, I love you mama!" Her screams were shrill, a panicking mess.

"Run away…don't come back, Sarah…!" Her mother grunted painfully.

"I want to make you smile. I've never seen you smile." My six year old self would say as I beamed up at her.

"Smiling is for children, and lovers, and I am neither, I will be neither." She would reply with a cool and collected composure. I would never have known the real reason that she hides herself until much later.

"Will you smile for me once?" I would hug her legs and look up at her.

She would reply without words or a smile, instead she would bend down and embrace me close to her. Her fingers would lightly ruffle the hairs on the nape of my neck. "Maybe…"

I see her lips curve up, everything is black, everything but her face, her skin is glowing golden, and she is smiling. Her lips finally part "I love you Lloyd…" I will myself awake a second time, and this time I know that she's not coming home because her smile is fading, fading away.

By my side
You'll never be
By my side
You'll never be
You'll never be

Take me home, I want to go home, my home is Sarah. My home is inside her, my home is her scent; I dwell within her veins, and the walls of her cells.

I realize why Sara is does not believe in love, and I realize why Sara is scared. I realize that every time I say those three words to her she does not care for them, and they do not assure her because to Sara the world that spins round and round is black and white. It is not tinted with reds and pinks like her cheeks when she blushes. She dangles her feet in the glittering jewels of the ocean, she senses the warm beauty of the sun, she knows the difference between real and fake but she does not see the colors like I do. She could tell you that the sky is blue, and that the grass is green but she can not tell you that fear is a cloudy purple that disintegrates into grays, or that my love for her is black and gold. Black for the blindness of everything that revolves past us, everything that we can not see or hear and feel when I taste her, all those senses that I am no longer aware of. I am aware of the gold though because the gold is for the flooding star at the end of my tunnel, gold is for Sara, the way she stands out of reality, gold is the way I have been throwing colors at her and the way my love is beaming inside her. In a way, I am her person of care, I am her blue sky and green grasses, her pink flowers and her golden sun, and I am the translucent waves that swim into her sea. I am her home and she is mine, I have created a world for her to exist within except she has not allowed herself to believe in my love. She does not reject it, she learns and grows in a reality that I have built for her but she does not believe. I can not make her believe, I can not make her change, she is the only one who can.

I understand, and I know why. She once needed her mother but her father murdered her mother, she can on longer trust and rely. She once needed her fathers love but he ripped himself away from her, and she can no longer love another man because he will destroy and disappear.

"You have to trust me when I tell you that I love you." The beams of light would shine onto her honey colored hair, making her even more beautiful, but somehow I know that she's lying.

I believe her now because she was trying to love me, she doesn't and she can't.

Instead she would say, "Lloyd…" Her voice would be a hush whisper, and there would be a hidden bitterness to it almost as if she were shaking her head saying "No Lloyd, no I mustn't be with you forever…"

I understand her now because she can not trust me with her being, and she does not love me no matter how hard she tries to.

Sara is my home, and I will forever be her home but she will never return because she is sick. Sick in her mind, and sick in her body. Sara does not believe, trust, or love. I will myself awake a third time, Sara is not reality and this time I understand why.

I wanted to tell you I changed
I wanted to tell you that things would be different this time
I see you
You see me differently
I see you
You see me differently

Sometimes her lush blonde hair would graze my chin; I would interlock my fingers within the strands. Sometimes her fiery lips would osculate my neck, my throat would contract. Her brown eyes would reflect off the apple I'm eating, her brown eyes would reflect off the windows, off the mirrors, off the moon. The neediness flashing inside them makes me week.

"Why Lloyd, why?" they would question, an imaginary voice soaked in pain.

"There will never be a real answer Sara," my voice would dissect the silence and incise Sara's mind. "This time however, it is because I was weak." Her orbs would roll back into her scalp until only the whites were visible. Her hideous deep chuckles would drown me until I was breathless.

"Lloyd, you are a stupid disgusting man." The empty phantom in her voice would taunt at me, snickering and laughing like a child.

I would awake to her eyes again; awake to her brown eyes reflecting off the glass decorating the grandfather clock. They encompass a purpose and serve as a reminder. I am not insane because I once loved her.

I see Sara differently, she is no longer beautiful. She no longer runs bare feet in a white dress along the sandy beaches. I see Sara as tar, I see her as a lifeless child inside a broken woman's womb. She is a different golden, bronze and rusty with no luster. She burns away in turquoise flames, her honey colored hair becomes straggly, she screams but there is no neediness or emotion contained in her voice. The flames dance around her and burn a dirty orange. Her tender breasts rip violently from her body. Sara's smiles, what used to be shy and innocent are now cheap and seducing.

"Lloyd you a stupid disgusting man." She smirks.

I could only laugh because I already know that I am sick and rotten. I laugh and laugh, Sara screams and smiles and bleeds and perishes. The flames finally tame and die.

Ashes and soot.
Gray and black.
Flinging and drifting.

They remind me of what Sara sees for her world sits colorless in blacks and whites and grays.

"Have you ever thought of what would happen if we died, would you think that maybe we will meet each other again, in different forms of life?"

I began to fall backwards into the setting sun. Reds, yellows, oranges, and violets twist, they carry me as they melt past the horizon into hell.

You tell me that you love me
But you never wanna see me again
You tell me that you love me
But you never wanna see again
You tell me that you love me
But you never wanna see me again
You tell me that you love me
But you never wanna see me again

Dear Lloyd,

I wonder about you at night. How have you been these days? They say you have been disconnected and they tell me that you retrieve into your shell more often so now. They blame me for your insanity and your craziness because I left. I want to see you and hear you but I do not miss you because I can never forgive you.

Goodbye Lloyd, I know you will never write back because you are dead.

Love always,

Sara