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I gazed into the sky watching as the stars clashed with the dark sky.
My pink lips turned upwards into a smile as I saw a shooting star swerve through the night.
Make a wish
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
I wish someone was here to watch the stars with me. To hold me as I snuggled close to them. My heart racing and my palms almost sweaty. Our love for each other coursing through our veins. I just want someone to love me and I to them.
I exhale after I make my wish and hope for it to work.
I start humming a tune in my head, quietly singing it.
"Beautiful dreamer Wake unto thee Starlights and dewdrops are waiting for thee"
I grow a sad feeling as if I wouldn't find that someone. Every night I wish for the same thing. Every shooting star I see in sight I ask for that same wish.
What if I'm just meant to be lonely
I felt my eyes fill with tears at the thought.
I go for my pockets pulling out a pack of cigarettes. I sigh as I pull out the producer of a foul smell once lit.
I put it between my lips but I don't light it. I just let it sit there. Rolling between my two plump pieces of skin.
Whenever I'm sad, mad, or nervous I pull out this disastrous cancer stick.
The metaphor of me holding a potential produce of my death in my hands and between my lips is a calming feeling. To know I can give it the power but I don't. I don't light it, it can't kill me. I'm not giving it the power to kill me.
I sigh shakily as my now wet cigarette in my mouth is over flowed with salty tears. My line of vision now blurry. No longer being able to see anything.
It's like making your own storm. You are the sun, but your eyes are the clouds. The tears are the rain. And one thing can blow out of proportion and make a thunderous storm.
I take out the damp cigarette and place it back in the pack. Biting my lips and wiping my eyes willing my self not to cry.
But yet again another wish doesn't fail to disappoint.
Sobs pour out my mouth. The pain apparent in my cry's of heartbreak. My eyes growing sore from the amount of saturation.
Stop crying
Please stop crying
I huffed frustration builds over me as I wipe at the falling tears. Feeling quite satisfied when there are no more to fall.
I'm get up now sitting on a bench and place once again another cigarette in my mouth.
Fiddling it around with my tongue for a minute.
"You know those things kill, right?" A soft yet raspy voice asked.
I yelp and jump as far back as I could in this creaking wood bench in shock.
I turn and see a green haired girl. Her hair is glowing in the dark.
Luminous
I shook my head quickly.
"I don't smoke." I replied. She look at me in confusion motioning to the limp stick in my mouth.
"I don't smoke." I repeat. She nods and smiled at me. She holds a hand out.
