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Words.
What are words?
The dictionary would tell me that a word is a single, distinct meaning of speech or writing.
Easy enough, right?
If it's so easy,
then why do the words
f
a
l
l
out of my mouth after I run into Indiana?
Correction
The words don't just fall,
even the word fall sounds too graceful for me.
When I accidentally slam into Indiana in the hall,
the words don't just fall,
the words of apology and concern tumble out of my mouth.
My face flushes as the tumbling creates an avalanche.
My palms sweat as the avalanche smothers me.
And I can't breathe.
I can't think.
I am just a waste of space with a stupid look on my face.
"Excuse me," she says.
As if it was her fault.
But I know, it's mine.
It's all mine.
And I should tell her that.
Easy enough right?
If it's so easy,
Then why don't I stop her with one simple word when she hurries away?
Wait.
Stop.
Don't.
Sorry.
Stay.
Anything would have sufficed.
Say something, I'm giving up on myself.
YOU ARE READING
Needle and Thread
Teen FictionThe Outcast. The Jock. The Perfectionist. The Rebel. Four stories. One thread, holding them together. / TEEN FICTION / POETRY / ROMANCE / Cover by @Abyss-of-crazy First Draft Highest Ranking #26 in Poetry
