The feeling was soft.
The field beside my house was almost invisible with the fog, the wind wasn't even blowing, but it was cold enough for me to be awake, earlier than usual, as the softness of my favorite blanket touched my skin. The tiny flicker of light coming from my phone had signaled that I have received a text from someone important to me. Normally, when I want to be alone, the only people that I would utter words to would be my mom, my dad, my brother, my dog... But now, I also had him.
I had disconnected myself from everything that stressed me out for the last couple of months. Obviously, school was on top of that list, so I told my mom that the headmaster can go fuck herself, literally, because I don't want to put up with her bullshit anymore.
Kidding, I'm actually nice.
The spinning feeling of the sleeping pills from the night before had faded, and I was welcomed with two choices; To stay in bed for a few more hours, or at least get my feet up for a run.
Well, after being exhausted from months of being a prisoner in school, I had decided that I deserved the few more hours in bed. It was, in fact, a religious experience for me to realize how comfortable my bed is. The soft pink of my pillowcases that contrasted the black and white of the bedsheets, something that I've dealt with for my entire life; Everything was either too light or too dark, and the soft pink was something I craved, something from the past, something that felt like I was a kid obsessed with pink again. It felt nice to have the pink again.
The night I spent with him was, well, something else. Not that we had a pillow fight, or had a one night stand, but we just fell asleep comfortably like two peas in a pod. It felt like it was something so special, so sacred, like baby Jesus on the manger as everyone else watched him. It was so fucking beautiful, so fucking soft. I know everything felt like a dream, but my eyes were wide open.
And suddenly, all of the fog was gone. I could see the green grass, the yellow skies, and the prettiest of eyes.
– "Soft", October 30
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Seventeen
PoetryLetters about the highs and lows of my seventeenth year of life. [EXPLICIT CONTENT, possibly. Please read this at your own risk. If you are struggling with your own personal stuff, please do not hesitate to seek out for help. My dms are always open...