gretacious
His eyes. I can't get them out of my head. I want to draw them so badly, those beautiful, soul-staring eyes. Oh, to trace their curves and drifts! Ecstacy.
Him. Agh. That's all I can think of. The way his blue, blue eyes stare into my soul. He barely knows I exist. Obsessed. That's how I always get. When I fall, there's no coming back.
Bold. She walks down the halls and no pair of eyes diverges. She is tall, confident, beautiful. She is gold.
Flitting about, you decide to land on my scarf. I brush you off. There's something on my hand. No, not a thing.. PAIN. Why do you sting me so?