And she was loud. Not like her talking, which yes, when she spoke everyone heard her. But her eyes were always screaming when she spoke with her hand motions, and her hair was never laid quietly. She was loud. When she laughed, her eyes were like fireworks and it wasn't a giggle it was THAT PUN WAS SO CHEESY BUT I LOVE YOU or DAMN THIS IS SUCH AN AMAZING COMEDY or HE JUST FELL DOWN THE STAIRS BUT HES OKAY kinda laugh. And when she got scared it wasn't just a wince or a small internalized kinda noise, but when she screamed, she screamed loud. But loud isn't a bad thing. It was like fireworks on heroine in her head. But loud wasn't a bad thing.
YOU ARE READING
My poems
RastgeleI will write my deepest, saddest thoughts here. Warning, you may cry, or scream, or tell someone you love them more then ever. But please don't be angry with me.
