Rollercoaster drops. Ocean waves plummeting. The smell of Japanese cherry trees. Burnt marshmallows. The word 'moist'. The back of your knee, the crook of your elbow. Mockingbirds chirping, rabbits hopping. Peeling nail polish and messy hair. My hand collapsed in yours.
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song -- "Teenagers," My Chemical Romance
YOU ARE READING
My View from the Mount
PoetryA really close friend (she's the older sister I never had) once told me that I don't need to be established to consider myself a writer. So here I am. I'm a writer, but I'm not a professional. I'm just a girl with a pen who speaks through a notebook...
