YELLOW WINTER

Yeol.

14

I don't think she knows just how not beautiful she is.
She isn't beautiful, she doesn't make your head turn, oh no she doesn't.
She makes you glued to a spot, makes you lost in the cosmos that's her eyes.
She feels like music, she looks like a dream, like she almost isn't real but she is.
I didn't know she existed outside my imagination until I let impulse draw her into a hug and oh heavens! She is real!!
I could feel her heartbeat, hear her breath and when we walked together, hand in hand I was in a daze.
We didn't need words, I didn't have no words so I just took it in.
With each step I prayed I wasn't in a dream, that Bright's grief didn't make me hallucinate but then I beheld her eyes and for a moment I actually had hope.

These eyes weren't dead, they didn't carry impure thoughts, pretentious emotions eyes couldn't hide, they weren't angry eyes and even if they were, it'll be sincere.

She isn't beautiful. Everyone uses that term carelessly to describe allot of shallow truths, standards that ain't even real and oh heavens, she's too perfect to be called beautiful.
Just beautiful?
No.
She's art. A walking collection of continuous art.

She makes me want more and I don't deserve more but for her I think I might have a chance of redemption.

I don't think she knows just how perfect she is.
It isn't her eyes, her nose, her face, her hair oh no, it isn't that it's the collective purity of her existence.
I've needed her long before I knew her.

The first time I lay eyes on her, her camera was the first thing I saw.
Hoody over her head, oversized clothes and ear piece she never took off.
I knew she photographed me, I knew cause with every click I felt more raw before her and so I pretended not to see while conscious of my poses.
Soon I learnt to let her capture me in all my humanness...in moments I feel like hiding I'm ok if she sees me through her camera.
On days when I hate the world I let her capture the worlds I can't hate, the world in every book I read.
I bury my head behind it's covers and hope it leaves her curious.

I don't think I'll ever talk to her again though.
She's pure, she isn't like this other kids I don't think she'll judge me for having a mom that doesn't know who I am.
I don't need just another person to look at me with pity, to ask if I'm ok ... I'm not, I really I'm not. Talking about it won't change anything but I don't think she'll ask.
She isn't the type to ask that, I know because I would never ask anyone that for fear of being asked the same question and I know she isn't fine either.

I don't want her to loose the glint in her eyes when she looks at me.
I don't want her to be a secret but if she isn't a secret mom would know right?
In those moments when she's Anita Hwang from five years ago she'll ask me "Yeol, is that your gf?" And in her very mom way she'll talk about her looks, talk about what she thinks about her and I don't need that.
I don't want her to draw her in and then when her mind's a haze for her to ever hurt Yasmin.
I can take the blows, the kicks, the biting but I can't bare anyone else seeing that.
Feeling pity for us would leave my courage in a ditch.

I wore my best smile today, my legs felt heavy but I dragged them towards her with a smile that didn't hurt my cheeks.. but then I saw him...
Why was he with her though? Why's he here?
He's not changed .....three years and he's still the same.
Annoyingly beautiful.
Nothing more, he's just beautiful.
Another reason why I should run from her ...why I should leave my room windows shut, why my lights should be turned off, why I shouldn't let Dad pick me up from school....I need to disappear from her life. She would never disappear from mine but.... I'll let her let go off me.
Make her hate me ...watch her camera follow someone other than me.