author's note : hiii i hope you guys have a lovely weekend and i have so many new ideas in the works right now. i can't wait to share them with you all!
[for Night, you indeed are like the night – so incredibly beautiful from the inside and out, so incredibly beautiful in the midst of the darkness. i can't wait to read your stories bc from what i've gathered, they're lovely as you are. also, thank you for reading my collection of poems.]
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13 : avenoir
"I am not the first person you loved.
You are not the first person I looked at
with a mouthful of forevers. We
have both known loss like the sharp edges
of a knife. We have both lived with lips
more scar tissue than skin."
- Clementine Von Radics
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avenoir (n) :
the desire that memory could flow backward
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B E F O R E
I FELT MY KNEES INSTINCTIVELY BUCKLE by the very second, making it rather hard for me to walk. Every step I took had caused my heart, accompanied by a flurry of restless hornets, to thud against the inner linings of my chest erratically.
My stomach felt like a hefty dead weight as I felt it lower fractionally as a declining wave of horror glossed over me. I clutched my hand firmly on the slightly damp screen of my phone, which almost slipped through my quivering fingers.
Similarly, I clutched on to the rails of the bottomless chasm in an iron-grip, in hopes I wouldn't fall helplessly. I clutched as though my whole life depended on it. Perhaps, it did.
I gradually strode over the winding sidewalk with my head slightly tilted down, sidestepping a few crevices that had accumulated pools of rainwater. The faint scuffle of my tennis shoes against the charcoal pavement and the torrential downpour were the only sounds that filled the silence that hung.
Noiselessly and unnervingly, I made my way to his house with all the words I've never had both the time and the tenacity to say at the very tip of my tongue. All I had to do was dispatch them without thinking twice. All I had to do was listen to the teeming of my father's reassuring words inside my head.
"Listen to your instincts even though it hurts you," my father had said, as I emerged from my room with the mere intention of procuring for myself a cup of tea, with the beginnings of a smile hinting at his thin lips and with the palms of his hand pressed against my shoulders hearteningly. There was a fleeting glimpse of misery crossing his features for no more than a split-second before his eyes went completely obscured. "It was the same mistake I've made and it was the same mistake that I was forced to live with."
YOU ARE READING
The Love Interests
Teen Fiction"You're beginning to sound like the person you vowed never to become." This is the story where one wrong decision leads to a dozen of others. Even if Scarlett tries to compensate for everything she's done, it all spirals downward.
