allgoodkc
He stole it from me, like a thief, my only good memory of him, he tarnished it, by coming back. My one good memory of him and he ruined it, stealing it like a thief, the way we could be together and things would be good, we could talk for hours and not get bored. But then he left, all those memories hurt, so I put them away as though they weren't there because he stole them. But then he came back, and ruined them, then like a thief again, the good memories were gone... replaced by these thieving memories of his return. Once a thief always a thief.
The mole was a mole like no other it was a large mole with other moles revolving around it, like a constellation of moles... oh her face, that is what I learned in english class today... about my teacher...
I feel forgotten sometimes, like the book of the shelf collecting dust, forgotten, its a shame that way because I could do so much more, if you just remembered. But now I am forgotten, like something old, even though I'm not...
it was glowing, that jar of light bugs. glowing so peacefully, all of them flying around in there, peaceful. That was one memory i had with my older cousin, he was always cooler but on that one summer night, he became my age again and we caught light bugs.