by sunday you'll be gone.by monday she has your name tattooed across her left breast because that's where her heart is
but hell, you could care less about that. you just like to press your undeserving hands against the tattoo and
hell, it hurts her so much
but her eyes are full of tears and half-open eyelids and all she can see are your lips opened, like they're about to say 'i love you'.
[they're not.]
--
by wednesday she is wishing you a happy one month anniversary and between lusty looks that she misreads for love she is telling you that no word in english rhymes with month or purple which, by the way, is her favorite color.
she is telling you that your eyes stay the same size since you were born but that she thinks your heart can grow.
you are telling her you don't believe her.
you are living proof that she is wrong.
--
by sunday she is calling you four times a day. the first time you want to make her sweat a little so you don't answer. you are imagining her naked body leaving behind droplets of sweat as y
then and now.then.:thumb119849161: :thumb154751423:
the world was made of red, blue, and yellow,
and school was a borderless place.
when the grass was green,
and tickled your feet as you ran.
the little girls looked up to Britney Spears,
and the Spice Girls, because
they were such strong women.
the little boys dreamed of being Superman,
and Spiderman, because
they always got the girl.
when you danced to the seeming innocent
bubbly sounds of Aqua,
and wrapping only referred to Christmas presents.
a time when you were happy,
and smiled.
now.
the world is in the grey scale,
and school is filled with walls.
the grass is dull and yellow,
and gets smushed under your Converse Chucks.
the girls all want an Edward Cullen,
or a "Dear John", because
they were hot.
the boys all want a Megan Fox,
or a Jessica Simpson because
they had big boobs.
when you dance dirtily to the rhymes
of Lil' Wayne,
and Santa Claus no long is real.
a time when everything makes you angry or sad,
and you wept.
the past is just practice.we spent last summer blowing kisses that never made it to their destinations. and now i don’t know what to say to you to make all those wasted words seem right. it’s like we were waiting for our first kiss but neither of us had the guts to make the first move so instead we lay side by side not touching, not moving, breathing on opposite intervals. i’d say your name but you weren’t listening. you’d whisper i love you but you didn’t mean it. it was summer and you should have tried smiling with your eyes.:thumb151722552: :thumb143047563: :thumb138639586: :thumb124673596: :thumb97552091:
___
last autumn, we were flying paper airplanes with our wishes into the wind but they kept coming back to us. so you would tell me that we were young and we still had time. that the wind would die. that everything dies eventually and then we could finally breathe wishes that we wouldn’t have to swallow again. we could whisper the words we’ve been needing to hear. but every other day, i was losing track of what to say to you. we were sitting in the
before, beforei am only just thirteen. he is sixteen. i am in love/lust/crush.:thumb142223902: :thumb123395335:
my best friends big brother, or friends ex boyfriend, is tall. once or twice i imagined kissing him. but he never would. he is friends with the boy who is sixteen. and besides he is my best friends big brother or my friend's ex boyfriend. and i am not a bad person.
i am tall too, you know. i am stretched skyward but there was no more to stretch, just bone. so i am not really that tall at all. but i pretend i am. how tall are you? oh above average, you know, pretty tall.
the brother says want to come and see j? and my heart leaps and i sing yes but he only hears a nod and there's no time to change. my chest is flat and my shirt doesn't cover my belly button but i don't really mind, you know, it's brown and flat like stretches of australia my father used to talk about. that's me; land.
the air is the kind of cool it only ever is at nighttime. not winter, no that's a different kind. you can tell by the night-y smell and the