@808HYMN
‘m sorry for running late, i’m here now, i am,
it’s just— my mom, ‘cause we got back so late the last time around was just not letting it go, so, so, i just took matters into my own hands and just— /ran. here/. fast as i could. ‘m sorry for being late.. ans. kiss and make up?
∗ anaïs’s canon (and self–written) discography is conan gray’s & esha tewari’s specifically from the albums wishbone + what makes a girl a girl <3
∗ cb+specify ^_^
pretend you didn’t saw that —- please
this wedding is such a joke.
why didn’t you tell me first thing—
[suburbia neighborhood’s idyll, almost, in late hours. no parties are set in stone to meet adjournment, no mistakes to be made out and about in juvenile stupidity. she’s a whisper of girl–vivacity, pallid as the whites of bedroom walls.] 'cause. [nuit bares fragility,] ’s not like i’ve been important to you recently. what’s–their–face has been keeping you– [all attempts at remaining cordial are snuffed out, as if someone’s blown out her internal flame, something ugly, green, stirring in the porcelain confines of her ribcage. and, anaïs’s hymnal, in unforeseen divination towards likes of gigi saltzman, bites:] –/busy/. \ @cultofsaltz
i know you aren’t feeling good, ans. that’s why i came prepared! stole my mom’s insane stash of recipes to make this bad boy.
it’s cramped in here.
[peter l.’s storage closet cradles smeared silhouettes. opposite the boy-angel’s direction, halfway swallowed by egg-shell white, she’ll gaze upon him with an indiscernible, almost infinitesimal, teenage interest. then, verbalizing:] ’s not as if i was expecting company, [(let alone you, of all people.)] ’m usually the only one hidin’ away in here. \ @til3012
∗ cb+specify <3
i’m over it.
[every second is eternal. she looks at anaïs, for no particular reason when eliciting an answer for her favorite place on planet earth, and misses the outline of it entirely except for her eyes. the rest of her face — the pulpy lips, the tanned sideburn fuzz, the nose with its candy-pink translucent nostrils — registered dimly as gigi’s own two blue eyes lifted her on a sea wave and held her suspended. all fuzz. the memory of it seeps into her.] wh— okay, i probably still haven’t found it. with every corner of earth still out there, how am i supposed to have a favorite place in the world when i’m here— in a total bell jar. [juvenile temper is short-lived. upon the look at anaïs face again, seraphette revives. vivacity—injected, looking at her as if there was nobody on earth she so desperately wanted to be looking at.] .. maybe the park? yeah, the park by madison avenue’s pretty nice. i like all the dandelions around it.
