When I wake up, my hair stands up like a marionette and I laugh in the mirror, only smoothing it down with my hand to tame it. Even then, that hardly ever works.
When I get to school, I take my violin up to it's locker and stay around for a bit to hear someones story, or to throw shade.
When I get to second period, I start to feel chills and uneasy. I don't hate math, but I always dread the class.
When the bell rings for third, my stomach lurches as I rush down to my English class.
When I get there, I sit and pretend to not notice her.
I pretend to not notice her smiles, her stare, the way her hair sways when she turns her head, her gloves that she randomly takes out whenever she feels like it, the way she writes on a paper, her concentrated face, her face when she's happy, the way she mouths along to whatever music she's listening to, her expression dramatically soften when she sees me looking at her, the way she teases me into wanting more every time.
But I can't pretend any longer. I can't do it anymore.
YOU ARE READING
constantly blooming.
Poetry'i will never stop blooming, like an eternal rose of flame... i may have my times of smolder and small sparks, but i will always become a huge inferno in the end... and nothing can stop me.' Collection of poetry and prose between the ages of 10-15...
