iomgei

iomgei

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you're watching the sunset with the only boy you've ever been in love with. it's something the both of you do every once in a while. he's always the one who begs you to see it with him. and when you give in, he smiles so wide, so it's worth it you guess. right now, you're both sitting on the roof of his house. the tiles of the roof are digging into your spine, but the feeling is easy to ignore while you stare at his profile. his brown hair was simple but it looked like it was glowing in the orange light. you make sure that when he looks at you, you look back at the dropping orb of light in the sky. you'd rather watch him then the sunset; you're the type of person who thinks once you've seen one, you've seen them all. glancing down at his hand, you become painfully aware of the distance between your hand and his. you stretch your pinky out, peek up through your eyelashes to see if he notices and when he doesn't, you scoot it further. "i never get tired of this." he says and you start, immediately retracting your hand back. "yeah. it's great." you reply but there's an ache in your chest now when you look back down at his hand.

she wasn't afraid of any monsters, emily told herself as she lay in bed. nothing like a monster under the bed could scare her. besides, her attention shifted to the steps she heard coming up the stairs. they sounded fast and unsteady. the door noisily swung open, and in came her father, reeking of alcohol. she had her own demons to deal with.

proof

"prove it to me." she yelled, the veins in her neck bulging. her eyes were wide and her brow furrowed with her anger. her temple throbbed and she raised her hands up, looking at her fists. she unclenches them slowly. she frowns deeply.

cute

sometimes i like to think that i'm cute. i don't think that i'm pretty or anything or attractive of that sorts. idk i just don't really think about my body all the much in terms of whether i'm attractive or not. i like clothes tho. so sometimes i'll try to put a little effort into my outfit. in school, sometimes i think, "why are people cuter than me? that should be illegal" and i typically only think this when i see someone attractive. lately i've been thinking that i'm bisexual actually because i look at both guys and girls and think that they're cute. okay okay so also, there's this girl right. her name is Lydia but i won't say her last name (i vaguely remember it). for some reason?? last year in first period, she stared at me. i swear, she STARES at me. last year i had English first period, and for the whole year i didn't notice this, or maybe she wasn't looking at me yet. but then towards the end of the year around may or June, we get new seats and i'm sitting next to her. i think THAT is when i start noticing she stares at me. okay okay, so i'm creeped out right. why are you staring at me? am i cute, ugly? do you think i'm weird when i share my ideas in English? i had no idea and for the whole rest of the year, i didn't ask her. fast forward to this year right. she's in my SOCIAL STUDIES CLASS 3RD PERIOD. SHE STILL STARES AT ME. honestly, it's starting to piss me off. sometime during this year i'm going to ask her why she stares at me and she better stop because it bothers me. i've been thinking she stares at me because i'm cute?? or she likes me?? i have no idea. she's religious i think and goes to church, so that wouldn't make sense right? i have no idea but whatever. anyway, let's swerve back onto the topic of cute. i've been thinking that girls and guys are cute, so i'm thinking i'm bisexual but idk. i had a few crushes on girls last year so. but i've never actually dated. so I JUST DON'T KNOW IF I'M BI OR NOT. tbh though, i don't really talk about boys or girls as much as others. my friends will start talking about crushes, and i'll stay silent or just think, "we're in middle school guys, we aren't old enough to date yet." so there's the chance that i'm asexual? honestly i don't know. so, you can completely ignore this if you want, i'm just venting right now and i heard that venting or writing in a stream of consciousness helps.

her glasses were thick and her eyes sharp features stiff shoulders up she was a doctor alright a certified one and you could look in her office and see with all the degrees on her walls with turn-lipped smiles

the brown haired boy's frame sinked into the hospital bed, sickly pale and even white against the sheets. he was sick, and he hurt hurt hurt but there wasn't a single bone fracture. it was the fractured heart that made him so sickly pale. it was a new rare disease where the unrequited love led to heart-break and so, the fracture of one's heart. though there was nothing wrong with the physical body, the mind believed the heart broken and the results were clear; the boy an example. he peeked through half-lidded eyes at the ceiling, pretending the spots in the corners of his version were just the stars coming out greeting him, before he fell into a dreamless sleep.

the fractured girl stood in the rain, tears leaving cracks in her cheeks, crevices in the hollow spaces. she stared at his back as he walked away. she looked away from him to peer through her lashes to see if the sun was coming through. because she couldn't let the light of day lay sight on her fractured heart.

coat

i love coats. i could fill a whole closet with them. my favorites are winter coats because i had met her in the winter, when people wore red scarves and children held their mother's hands to keep them warm. i still have her tattered gray winter coat, with mismatched patches stitched on. sometimes... i can remember the snow falling onto her hair, when she said "take my coat." with a warm smile that could melt all the cold in my bitter heart.

lint

lint. the one thing he always found on his shirt he leaned his elbows forward and sunk further into his desk. he peered around the detention room. so boring. and yet. he plucked a little ball of lint off his shirt. hmph. lint. the one thing he could never get off his clothes.

she trudged through the snow, that rose all the way up to her knees. her hands felt numb and her lips were dumb. her frame was engulfed in snow like powder and her trembling just wouldn't stop. she couldn't stop either. she had to continue ONWARD. there was no stopping the little girl in her little parka.

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writing since 2015 · 18 entries · 14 days shown up

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vanessa. wrote about lint
“lint. the one thing he always found on his shirt he leaned his elbows forward and sunk further into his desk. he peered around the detention room. so boring. and yet. he plucked a little ball …”

the words vanessa. reaches for

aprongirlroomhearteyesmothercutehandswalkednowgirlsdoorhandstaresbrownagainst