Shota

1.// sheets

oh poor young boy, so
full of life, potential.

oh poor young boy, why'd
you fall in love with her?

oh poor young boy, do you
even know what you're getting
yourself into?

probably not.

I stared at my pale body in my lanky bedroom mirror. A small boy who looked around 10 stared back. Veins were still visible under my eyes from my late night unpacking. A headache swelled at the back of my head, signalling I should get some rest before tomorrow. I threw myself on the bed. I looked around my new room. I itched my cheek. I did all these things to distract my decaying mind. I eventually found myself drifting off into darkness.

Red trees. Not dead autumn red, but a crisp blood soaked ruby. They flooded the tar road with their fallen leaves, and when a wind gust came rushing through the valley of vermilion, the leaves threw themselves up into the air and danced their way back down. I bent down to pick up a leaf, but as soon as I touched it, the sea of scarlet became bare. The trees had disappeared and all that remained were hollow trunks and shrivelled sheets.
"vetitum"

I woke up sweaty and dazed. My teddy bears sprawled on the floor. I was still such a kid despite being 14. I sat on the corner of my un-sheeted mattress and stared at my hands

Where are you going with your life

I looked at the time. Jesus Christ it's only 6am? I planned to wake up at 7.45. I traced the frame of my lips with my thumb and thought about what I needed today. I'm pretty sure I already packed my bag with everything. My aunt had gotten my school supplies before I came down, but she still thinks I'm like 11. So I'm stuck with a baby blue bag because it "suits my look". I decided to watch the sun rise out my window. It was discomforting being on the 64th floor of a city high rise. This is too different for me.

yellow
you set my soul on fire,
igniting what little flare have left
in my barren wasteland heart

blue
she suffocates with her frigid,
unrelenting demons, tears
like rocks, roll down
an apricot hill. fear isn't a way to live

black
she is a charcoal blanket,
smothering my innocence.
my body is a winter land, but to
her, i am too torrid.

So dangerously colourful