JUNGKOOK IS DIFFERENT.

10/10

jungkook.

i'm still suspended.
but that didn't stop me.
that won't ever stop me,
from seeing him.

this morning,
my mom made me breakfast.
she called me downstairs,
called again and again and again.

i didn't come.
i pushed myself out the window,
because even if i was suspended,
that won't stop me.

i marched to school,
bright blue sky looming above me.
a feeling of déjà vu hit,
except this time it was different.
i was different.

my mind was silent,
it wasn't going to run.
i wasn't going to let it run.
because i don't want to scare him.

people stared,
staring, staring, staring.
people whispered,
whispering, whispering, whispering.

and yet it was silent,
silence, silence, silence.

but it wasn't pitch black,
because he shines,
my mesmerising boy.
his sweet tunes keep me grounded.

and i marched to room 18,
ignoring all the voices around me,
talking to me, talking about me.
"why are you here?"
"why is he here?"
either variation of the sentence,
wasn't worth my time.

and i walked into the room,
teacher not inside yet.
students were by their desks,
in clumps, talking about whatever.
it didn't matter, it was all static to me.

but within the static, stood jungkook.
looking down, sitting on his desk
and legs on his chair.
a kid came up to his,
and smacked his back,
and made static noise.
louder static, louder, and louder.

my mind was still.
silent, calm, collected.
it will not run,
because i won't let it.

but my body ran to jungkook,
and i held his back,
hugging him from behind.
i put my face to his dandelion sweater,
that smelt like a spring day.
the fabric was soft but torn,
worn out from being worn in.

he was confused.
he asked me,
"what are you doing here?"
it was unlike the way the others said it,
he said it with relief.

i wasn't supposed to be here,
because i was suspended.
but so was he.
we were both suspended above them all,
all my old, fake friends.

those who said i couldn't see them,
because i played with jungkook,
and jungkook was different.

so whatever.

because they don't understand,
they don't see the stars twinkling in the broken boy.
they haven't heard him humming,
humming the sweet tunes that guided
us out of the pitch black.

i grabbed his hand,
his hand lost deep in the dandelion sleeves.
the dandelion sleeves that concealed his scars,
because of what he hated.
the scars he wore because he was different.

and i ran.
he ran besides me,
we ran out of the room.
we kept running,
running, running, running.

and we ran out of the building,
outside to the back of the school,
and beyond.
the leaves crumbled beneath us as we ran,
our breaths heavy.

jungkook was crying,
but smiling a smile.
not a smile he smiles when he's hurting,
no, a genuine smile.
"thank you," he huffed.

and we ran.
we ran out of town,
we ran through the next town
and through the next.

and we're still running.
all because jungkook is different.
all because jungkook likes boys.

we're two boys,
running away from the rumours.
running away from the pain,
running away from the lies.

we're running to somewhere better,
towards the stars.
running to where different is normal
and we can be lonely together.

there's this boy,
his name is jungkook.
he has big, beautiful eyes,
where stars twinkle brightly
in the warm chocolate hues.

there's this boy, his name is jungkook.
he has dark hair,
dark like the pitch black.
and he has skin warmer than his smiles,
skin that's been kissed by the sun
but scarred by the rumours.
some new, some old,
some bruises, some cuts,
but all driven by hatred.

i once heard jungkook was different,
that he's not like the rest of us.
they told me to stay away, because he would hurt me.
but he had a mesmerising warm smile,
and held out his hand towards me.
he played with me,
and made me smile.
i liked jungkook,
even though i knew he was different.

and i like him now,
i like him more than
i like anybody else in the world.
he is my world,
and i want to protect him from the world.

there's this boy,
his name is jungkook.
he's beautiful.

he's my beautiful jungkook.