Paper Cut Lover | Kylo Ren

THREE

𝙰𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚟𝚎-𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜, 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍, 𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝙷𝚊𝚣𝚎.

𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝙻𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚊, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎.

𝚆𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘? 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊, 𝚖𝚢 𝙻𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚊 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚍𝚐𝚎𝚍, 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛'𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚣𝚎. 𝚂𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚍, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏, 𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝙷𝚊𝚣𝚎.

𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝙷𝚊𝚣𝚎, 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚓𝚞𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚢.

𝙻𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙻𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚊 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛. 𝚂𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠.

𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚖, 𝚍𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞.

It's sickening. I utterly and tenaciously, felt sick at myself for even coming up with that.

I groaned to myself and scrunched up the piece of paper that I scribbled upon, throwing it to the corner of my dorm, where a mountain of rejects began to scale the wall beside the empty framing of a twin bed.

Huffing as I adjusted my notebook on the desk that I studiously bent over, my arm brushed the base of my lamp that illuminated the page in the midst of my dark dorm and burns the flesh of my forearm. The metal had become heated with it's own light from burning too bright, for too long.

Sucking a sharp breath inwards, I cradled my arm with my inky hands from the pen in the cramping grip and sighed as I stared at the blank page—which matched my even emptier mind. Arms crossed and brows knitted, the millionth, heavy sigh escaped my still lips, whilst the thousandth page of a garishly white writer's block, sat before me, awaiting my pen's next touch but my brain washed away all fragments of a muse as I tried to write another horrible poem about an even worse, novel.