Please..........

Take my hand. We can make it out alive. Through the smoke, through the dusk and the noise of all that nothing. Away from the scraping and the looming shadows creeping along walls, away from skeleton lies and vampire smiles. The wasteland of our memories, all ash and bitter tastes in our mouths, will be nothing but an old photograph you’ll look at once in a while. You’ll show me, and I’ll barely remember, and we’ll smile in recognition over cooling cups of coffee.