jolly
Drawing set her free. Drawing gave her life. Mostly she was just a shadow, an illusion. But with the pen in his hand, he could make her real. He could make them real.
My interest was slowly fading away. In school work. In relationships. In life. Life kept going but it felt like I was standing on the sidelines watching it pass, without me.
It's my greatest fear and maybe it will always be.
I could be ugly; I could be bad-tempered.
I could be rude; I could be mean.
I could be lazy and I could be dumb.
But at least I'm not boring; at least you don't find me dull.
A rage of water.
An air of forgiveness.
A hint of surprise.
A time of rebirth.
A thought beautiful.
A reality slightly less colourful.
books, paper, bills
a letter you wrote long ago
a forgotten article you cut out
a shopping list
your life preserved in that stack
A smell on her fingers,
a presence in the air
An omen of something broken,
a smell of despair
It's a mystery.
The way his hair falls beautifully without him trying. How he always makes me smile. The way he always manages to make me feel special when no one else can. How he made me fall in love with him without knowing it. How he doesn't feel the same.
Through the woods and past a mountain. Down a valley and into the swamp. Past a cave and by the beach. Into the ocean and all the way to you.
There had been a sign. But we had only shrugged and ignored. And now he lay on the floor. And the red was everywhere. A smell of iron in the air. We should have known. There had been a sign.
It was right, wasn't it?
I did the right thing. I'm sure I did. But then again no. It can't have been. Not under those circumstances. And they were... and he was... No.
It was wrong wasn't it?
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