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Date: 2011-08-26 12:57 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] notafuckingnut.livejournal.com
[There's a grunt as his back hits the wall, and he squirms under the intensity of Will's gaze, but he's not Seth. And he never will be. Richie doesn't have to listen, or so he tells himself. Like a horse that has yet to be broken, or a dog that has yet to be trained, he can't resist testing the boundaries, pushing them to the limits just because he doesn't think they should apply to him. And so he scowls and snarls and refuses to budge, furiously wishing he'd hidden the gun on himself rather than under the pillow where he can't get to it if only so he can make the other man go away.]

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Richie Gecko

It's a Dark Night

hot air hangs like a dead man
from a white oak tree
people sitting on porches
thinking how things used to be
dark night
dark night

the neighborhood was changing
strangers moving in
a new boy fell for a local girl
when she made eyes at him

she was young and pretty
no stranger to other men
but doors were being locked at night
old lines were drawn again

I thought things like that
didn't matter anymore
I thought all the blood
had been shed long ago

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