annie7113
I they could read my mind, they'd still never be sated, because my thoughts are convoluted.
Maybe I'm just complicated.
I had never been truly sated.
Never appeased.
Always hungry for more.
Always wanting.
And then I woke up at 11:28, the day before the end of the world.
Even though I know the world isn't really going to end.
I know the apocalypse is not upon us.
I needed the threat, and a Killers song, and an episode of How I met Your Mother to end my cycle of pain.
I'm through with depression.
Hello love.
Games should be for little kids on the playground.
For boys and girls in bright colored coats.
They can run and jump and play.
Lose or win.
Regardless
they go home to mom and dad
they go
home
where do we go?
when we have lost our games
lost other things
in other places
to other people
along the way
and why
at 17
am i still playing a game?
"Its not a game!", I screamed at the top of lungs.
But no one was listening, and my lungs had been traversed to such a height so many times before that the shock my heart felt simply sunk like a stone and hit me in the chest along with the rest of your betrayal. Yes, heartache is a heavy hell we must walk through, and with such souls.
Five was the number of seconds it took me to fall in love with you
one for the freckles that smiled at me from your nose
two for your eyes
three for that laugh, that goddamn gorgeous laugh so sharp it could kill a girl
four for your smile, your smile that haunts me to this day
and five for you, with all your flaws, misconceptions, and faults
Living is so much harder than I thought it would be. It's much harsher than the movies, when you meet the right people at the right time, and even if it's the wrong time, you figure it out anyway and it all works out alright in the end. Living isn't like that. Living is messy. Living is dropping your favorite earring down the drain. Getting your heart broken. And getting up off the ground and moving on. That's living.
There was a square on her front lawn. A blue, perfect square sitting right on the grass, like a lost lesson from 8th grade geometry. It was just staring at her. Emily, she thought to herself, what is this gorgeous piece of mathematical perfection doing on my lawn?