Ch 1: My Saving GraceHanna bit her lip and fought back tears as she listened to Caleb's footsteps head towards the door. A single tear trickled down her round cheek as she heard the door creak open and then close behind him. He was gone again. The one person she wanted to just cling to more than anything and she had had to let him walk out of her life for a second time. It was necessary though. He'd used her, hurt her... Even knowing about the letter he'd given to Mona didn't change that fact. She took a shuddering breath and took a moment to compose herself before going to find her mother to work out a deal over the six pairs of shoes she'd just bought. Her mother didn't say a thing and for that she was grateful. As soon as they worked out a deal on who got to wear what, Hanna climbed the stairs to her room and fell onto the bed. She sighed and hugged her pillow to her chest and cried herself silently asleep.He'd come back on a Friday. The weekend passed slowly and painfully. She wanted to cal
Chapter 1: The beginningShe'd never planned on getting pregnant at eighteen. The whole thing was the result of a rainy afternoon. They'd been out walking when it had suddenly started to rain. They hadn't tried to escape it right away. It was one of those warm summer showers; the kind that felt hot against your skin but instantly froze you to the bone the moment you stepped out of it. They had taken their time, walking slowly with their arms around each other. They talked about anything and everything, only paying attention to the weather when a bolt of lighting flashed through the sky. His house was closest so that's where they had gone. He'd given her some clothes, shorts and one of his numerous button up shirts to wear while hers dried. He put on a dvd. If you asked her what that particular movie had been, she wouldn't have remembered. The only thing that she remembered was being with him; his arms wrapped around her abdomen; lips pressed to her temple. It was the warmest thse'd felt in a long time and she
First DateGrace: -grace is standing in front of her full length mirror, stretching to make sure she didn't tie the shirt over her bikini top to tight. She's wearing a blue and white plaid shirt tied up and open to reveal the bikini top of the same colors. Bare midrif. and denim shorts that fall mid thigh. different clored socks that match nothing she is wearing and sneakers that are white with silver zebra stripes. Her hair is pinned up in pretty ringlets save for the two tendrils that frame her face, twirls once, taking it allcarefully in-Gabe: -sitting in his car outside her house, looking at himself in the rearview mirror; brushing his hair out of his eyes and fixing the collar on his green polo shirt. Absolutely terrified of what he's doing without understanding it in the slightest bit; getting out of the car and pushing his keys into the pocket of his dark fitted jeans-I can do this...-chuckles at himself a little, glancing down at his nearly mint condition black and white chuck taylors
You're backWhen Maxxie had prodded him awake, he was mad at first. He hadn't slept very well in almost a week. Why was someone making him wake up from the fittest nap he'd had in quite some time. Who was waking him up? Then, he saw it who it was. Maxxie. His body had been numb, not feeling anything. Uncomfortable, icy coldness that he couldn't chase away no matter how many blankets he piled on top of himself. He'd technically been dead. A stiff corpse asleep in the spare bedroom. He didn't eat, he slept a restless hurtfull sleep, and he was so cold. He needed Maxxie. He couldn't pretend like he didn't need his best friend. He'd be a bastard if he even attempted it. Max wasn't there though. He'd had too visit family and Ryuu had no idea when he was supposed to be back. Oh, he could have asked Aunt Em, but he didn't know how he would handle it if she said he'd be gone for a long amount of time, so he didn't. He wasn't expecting Max back anytime soon and he wasn't expecting a rescue from this living
Ten things I think...Rain pelted down on her as she searched frantically for him amongst a vast sea of vehicles. "God... please... Don't let him have left yet." She turned just in time to see the tail of his blue leather coat disappear around the corner. She took off at a run, her heels sending dropplets of water flying as she raced after him. "Jazz! Jazz, please wait!" He throat, tired and swollen, clench, not allowing the words fly very far from her. God please! Let him here me! She prayed as she raced around the corner, hoping against all hope that something would cause him to turn around and see her. Her heel snapped, causing her ankle to twist painfully beneath her. She cried out, stumbling while she kicked off her other shoe. She HAD to get his attention. She could see him. She could see beads of water clinging needily to each spike of his black hair, the chill bumps on the back of his neck... she was so CLOSE! She worked up all her strength and screamed, "JASPER WYATT GRANT! PLEASE, STOP!" This time
Rivals?I say I love you a thousand red skittlesbecause they're the only rival you havefor my love.jealous?
You're not a failure for failingHer small, anxious handsgrabbed the cup, a bit too largeas it slipped down and tumbled to the ground,the milky mess covering the carpet:her mother let out a disapproving sighand rolled her eyes,“Will you ever do anything right?”and that’s when she beganto limit her aspirations,so that her dreams would never be too large,so she’d never make any mistakesshe’d never again drop the cup,but she’d never have enough to drink.
fa(r)ceface me, faux pas princess;meet my eyes,take a deep breath.let's begin.where do i go in the wakeof your empty empathy embersburning through the wallsi built to hold me safe -this honesty blisters blatant,and i wonder how perceptionhas managed to fail youin such a spectacular way.face me, flighty fighter;hold my gaze,hold my gaze,only cowards look away.this is a warning,or a goodbye.if you play at salvation for long enough,maybe someday you'll be ableto save yourself.this is a machination that whirs whirlpool predictabilityand you imagine that youknow me, daydreamer -let's revise,let's rewrite;i am so much morethan definitions.face me, flickerswitch;maybe i would love you moreif the lights were out.(maybe i could love you longerif you kept your mouthclosed.)and sometimes i believethat you can only love mewhen i'm playingthe victim,because you're so busyin your role of saviourthat
perspective (distances)under the stars,two solitary figureshuddle apart.head meets shoulderin a vast act of intimateseparationbridging brink to brink,eyes span cavernous silenceand shine;islands entwinedacross a pitch ocean,carelessly eclipsedby the waves.tonightyou move mountains in-articulated seven leaguedesertion.intentions ever fairin tension everfearful.under the stars,two solitary figureshurtle togetherand inevitable,change melts slow;an irrevocable hazeof night curvinginto day.
whispers are a certaintyher utterance swervesin the vanguard of tumultbefore it is moltenand molded into a river of clay,then sculptedinto a bust.(and it neverpanned out the wayshe wanted it to.)this vacillationis an effigyof grandiose statu(r)esand her locution stands tallwhen the barricadesare torn down.it only recoilswhen defensesare dam(m/n)ingbecause weightis not meant to floatin the gravitas of gravity.
crumblingscrowded house,crowded mind;you are a neglectedinfrastructure.there's a road ahead,and it's a broken-down disaster.your steps unsteady,you are opening your eyes.you are coming outof the dark.this isn't what you wanted,but it's time to revise.deterioration,decimation;you are an overrunanarchy.there's a world in you,it's not what you wanted.this isn't what you planned,but it can still bebeautiful.(re)take the city(re)claim the land(re)build.
Fires Like Usmemories flood and a strange fuel chokes its blurry taste into mouths where words and will again, break down and it's here where our ghosts are haunted where the simplest air hosts and feeds fires like us, our orange knives, whittling away the years and miles-behind into memory and it's in this kindled breath that we forget
stay even-keel, even if it killsraptor, raptorraptures wrapped her head in with the rafters.echo bliss with depthuntil she's wrapped upin a bow-tie(d/own)uniform of sober tilting.somber livingand taping rhythmto the wriststhat duct veinslike streams of tape.this is naturaland animal. it's incrediblehow societal cultures can bein countering your feintsof disbelief.this beliefis that realityduct tapesyour echoes of blisswith depthof sober tiltinguniform of sober livingbecause bliss is addictive.and we need all folksdown (to earth)to make sure no oneis higher (than anyone else).
Tears and AshesYou don't need to lie,to make yourself interesting;Or gain some brand of..empathy..Sympathy created this way,is often devastating;Even if pain is commonly..relatable..Your character won't elevate;It'll only deplete..Unraveling faster,than every falsity,that waltzed you into..your next disaster..The lies become,the only consistent..factor..As you throw yourself,into the flames,you lose all the parts that..matter..And when the smoke clearsthe wreckage will be..irreparable..For everything you hoped,to embrace;Will be laid to waste..As everything you lovedabout your coveted lie has been..erased..You sit alone again;Tears and ashes,all you've claimed.
did you hear?you don't speak to me in whispers 'cause you're anti-silence -i stopped reading your lips when i realized the reason you never stop to beat the bated breath from your lungsis you've nothing worth experiencing x p r e s
Ready?ready to make that step?ready to take that fall?ready to be yourself?cuz i'm ready to do it all.