Whenever I feel like this, I am gentle with myself, pretend like I’m someone else, someone good. I walk on eggshells around myself, like I’m some fragile piece of porcelain you have to place quietly, deliberately back on the shelf.
We’re both whisper-screaming at each other. All I can think is this is the worst possible way to break up with somebody.
I look like vanilla pudding so nobody knows that on the inside I am spider soup.
It’s one of those dumb days where nothing’s really wrong but nothing’s really right either and the sky can’t even choose to be white or gray.
Ceaseless.Almost too much for this small frame.You make me part of the sky.
I mean if there was any justice in the world you wouldn’t even have to go to school during your period. You’d just stay home for five days and eat chocolate and cry.
I bet she thought she was getting into a fight with a vanilla wafer on roller skates but little did she know she was getting into a fight with a spider sandwich.
My age makes him nervous and shamey, cause his eyes keep heading southwards and then back up, guilty. I can tell I can make his eyes swirl and that’s just about all I want to do.
I do what he says and I close my eyes and open my mouth and the next thing I know he’s got his twenty-eight-year-old tongue in my thirteen-year-old mouth and all I can think is that I don’t think the hero is supposed to be doing this.
Let’s just call it like it is, no need to pretty it up. I care what other people think of me. I’m not Jesus Christ. I’m just a girl in the world.