Running [h.s.]

twenty two | luna

Luna's outfit for the party^

Trigger Warning: violence & derogatory slurs. Please do not read if this is triggering for you.

Buckle up, bitches. This is a long one.

Tuesday, September 22nd.

Breathing. We don't have to think about it. We never think about it. We just do it. But sometimes we forget to breathe and we need to be reminded. Like when you're scared and you don't know how to escape, your body is frozen. Like when you see the one you love, and when he smiles, oh dear god, when he smiles, and he wraps you in his arms.

And sometimes we can't breathe. You lay on the floor, gasping for air, trying to get a taste of oxygen. Trying to fill your lungs, your lungs that are filled with heartbreak and disappointment. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. The tears roll down your pretty face. You see his face, his beautiful angelic face and suddenly the air fills your body. It stirs in your stomach and you remember how to breathe. Inhale, exhale.

And you wonder how one person can take your breath away, make you suffocate, forget how to breathe, unable to breathe. But then they return your breath to you, wrapped in a box with a bow on top that reads 'I'm sorry.' And you accept the gift every time, because you need the breath to survive.