vii. creep

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Mitch Grassi

My hair is gone.

Where there was hair there are these thick black markings. Some trailed half way across my head, and some branched off like veins. Slash marks ran across my once tattooed shoulder, now clean minus the abrasions. Yet these abrasions were clean and not painful. My entire body looked like I'd gone through a world war, yet I was walking away painless.

How can something that looks so painful feel so... painless?

-.-.-.-.-

Scott Hoying

Mitch Grassi's party was something else. I'd almost say that he had a sliver of goodness to him, but seeing him treat Kirstin how he did confirmed that there's not a good bone in his body. But I won't condemn him... that is, unless he says something to Tori. He and Tori have to be on-stage lovers. If he says a single bad thing about her, I might snap.

But then I look down at the CD case. I laid in bed, relaxing and reflecting, as I always did, and was listening to Masterpiece off of the Disclosure album that Mitch burned for me. I wish I had even a fourth of the CD's he had on display. I wondered what music he listened to. I really only saw the first few that were in eyes view before he came over. I genuinely thought he was about to yell at me. He puts on such a front. I pick the CD case up and look at it carefully. It's plastic. See through. Maybe he did have some goodness to him. He just wasn't letting everyone see through his bad ass mentality.

I glanced underneath the door to my room, seeing the hallway light flash on and off just once. Dad was home. Not a minute past two in the morning... He always comes home super late when he's dealing with his clients.

I just wish he didn't think that his only source of extra money for our little family is selling drugs.

And suddenly I was unable to go to sleep. And so I begun writing. It was an escape for me, writing poetry. I wasn't any good at it, but I still tried. I drew into words the thoughts that I centralized around on this day, hoping for them to not be bogged down by a two o'clock arrival. I wrote about those eyes that I met earlier. Those dark chocolate irises...

Chocolate eyes house his soul, but alas,
he's hidden the key.

Locked away for none to enter, no.
Not even me.

-.-.-.-.-

Poetry by Just4Shiggles08 <3

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