jessical
you tried to be honest.
you tried asking him if he were gay.
you tried telling him you were open with stuff like these.
but you didn't try to tell him you love him.
I see Hitler in his sauve uniform, and in a moment of folly, I fell in love with him. His moustache was so alluring I couldn't help but kiss it. Then, history happened again.
trapped in a cell, he was as good as dead,
although his cells were alive.
He glanced at his cell; there was no reception.
He couldn't call.
like I mentioned,
trapped in a cell, he was as good as dead.
she held her head up high,
she held her arms out wide,
she held her child's little hands,
she held her wallet tight,
yet,
she forgot to hold her dignity right.
you wonder why you wonder and thought in wonder how wonderful it is that you can wonder in wonder.
with her arms akimbo, she stood there, rigidly, as if she was unsure of whether to hug him or not.
then, he went in closer to her, and whispered,
"it's alright. I know you're just a tad uncomfortable, but it's okay. :) I embrace your type."
her eyes seemed red and swollen,
her shoulders hunched, as though she was sobbing.
she buried her face into her palms.
he puts a comforting arm around her.
with her hands covering her face,
she smiles.
the rise of empowerment,
comes with the burden of roles;
as with Obama
her eyes shone as she saw him. as he spoke, his words flow like grass to a cow: happiness. she smiled as though they shared a joke. she's in love with her teacher. :)
four.
round.
space.
bleeding.
isolation.
questions of existentialism.
sobs.
the inevitable.
driven there.
writing since 2011 · 12 entries · 11 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Jessica showed up.
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the words Jessica reaches for
cornerwonderloveheldcellwhetherhateeyesfacehandsarmstrappeddeadroomsurvivestays