tuesday37
It was "mutual", they all said. Neither one's fault. No one stepped up and said they had ended it. Because it was "mutual", whatever that meant to them. That is not what we knew to be true.
Distinguished is such a funny word. It makes me think of people in ridiculous ruffled neck things and tights and beards that are curled at the end. I'd rather be absolutely ridiculous than be a distinguished gentleman anyday
He giggled as the ant crawled around his toes. It was such a funny feeling, to be young, to be sitting in the grass with ants on your toes and grass in your hair, when being alone with your dad was just enough to make you feel grown, and it makes you miss your mom. These are the kind of days that I miss. Even though we must keep moving forward, I want to be young again more than anything. It's a dull pain in my chest
The salt from the sea burned in her ears and eyes. She emerged from the surface of the water, but no one around her was strong enough to swim. She looked back at the sinking ship; the ship that was supposed to be unsinkable.
Life does not stop on the avenue. We walked in the rain, with red umbrellas, down the avenue in the morning. And you told me you were leaving, in the red car without a left door. Life did not stop for me, the traffic on the avenue kept running their motors.
She threw herself out onto the open road, the empty road, but no cars were coming. She stood. She wished. She knew. A truck came rumbling around a corner, and suddenly, she did not wish to die this way. To die like a deer caught in the headlights.
Thread Holds us together by sheer lines. Tiny lines, we never see this thread. It holds me to you and us to the ground. I don't know if I'm in love with you. It's just that I've grown to you and I've grown with you, and I'm attached by our thread. I need you, and j don't know what that means to me anymore. I am attached by our thread to you
threads hold things together. I feel like a piece of thread sometimes, as if I am holding the world together between my fingers and toes and I'm prone to break at some point, but when? And when I snap, the reality I have will come loose. I am a piece of thread. hanging off a frayed skirt.
writing since 2011 · 10 entries · 9 days shown up
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