You & I~Muke

-Michael-

hey it's your worst writer here lmao

i took almost two weeks to update lmao i want to die, but i've been busy it was my birthday yesterday and so i've been celebrating over various days and then on the other days i've just been feeling pretty shitty

sorry bout that cuties, and this probably isn't great.

but i really did try lol

let me know your thoughts, it makes me happy hearing from you guys

-

It takes another two days for Luke Hemmings to gather the guts to come and visit me; when he arrives in my miserably dull hospital room, I'm picking at my mediocre attempt of what's probably my dinner as the darkness begins to cover every inch of the sky, my knees bring closer to my chest than they usually are, and I swallow my mouthful as he comes in with silence and grace before sitting next to me, in the uncomfortable chair, with it's green itchy cotton material.

This summer has been a rainy one, I think, trying to take my eyes off how nice his eye lashes look, how his smiles a bit smaller than before; dripping from the window onto the window ledge near me, rain continues to lash and lash and I wish I could go out and feel it on my skin, maybe drown in something other than my thoughts.

"Hey Mikey," he says, so softly, and suddenly I'm not thinking about the abbreviation of my name he dares to speak, and how it makes me cave in, and how it makes me miss him.

Suddenly I'm thinking about those freckles that used to be on his neck, and how they always come out in the sunshine; how his eyes look when he's tired, how they get puffy and dark and I begin to fall in love all over again.

And how he holds me when I'm hurting or when I'm in lust and every single finger print tastes like infinity and feels like a forever within a moment.

Because really, we don't measure time in minutes, hours, years.

We measure it in moments.

I try to focus on the heavens pouring down; I try to focus on how my sheets feel against my achy legs and how I could sleep forever right now.

Living in a world full of water and air heads, is never been something that I could put into words.

Ever.

Because somehow, you feel outcasted every where you go.

Everywhere.

You walk down the street and you guess people are staring and laughing and that their eyes are ripping you apart but somehow you wonder why because you're not pretty and you're not funny and it's a continuous circle.

You feel like some how you're alienated; separated.

And I guess that's hard, it really is,

Because I'm drowning, and everyone's standing three feet away from me, screaming "Learn how to swim."

Refusing to join the eyes that are so frantically looking for mine, I trace the pretty patterns that I can only salvate in, temporarily distract myself on, because god knows nothing is as pretty as Luke.

"You've always liked the rain." I ignore him I ignore him because there isn't much else I can do. "And I've always wondered why; I mean, I'm the same, really, mikey, but it's always confused me. I think people who don't like the rain don't know pain, you know what I mean?"

Soon, Luke's talking continuously and his voice isn't shaking after a while, and I guess maybe it's annoying me that he's speaking to me like we used to speak, like the world didn't fall down and like the world didn't end.