A crowbar (red and worn, metallic hue)(tool for a brute(or a tool meant for a more intricate job)) rests upon the rustic (wooden) table.
What does she intend(she meaning you(my love, my everything(beautiful brown hair and hazel eyes(which I get lost in)))) with this tool(crowbar(probably considered a tool by some))?
A flurry (storm, floodgate, blizzard(so weather focused?)) of ideas (robbery?(she's too kind for that))(murder?(way too good-hearted for that(I choose to believe))) present themselves in my mind (my head always go towards negative outcomes for some reason(I do know the reason though(but I won't admit it))) and it unnerves me to a degree (not a weather thing this time(nor an academic degree)).

But try as I might,
the mystery remains.
Untill actions are taken.
And I take them.


© pissprophet