Wooden floors, walls and window cells
It's amazing, really. The power of emotion.
How something that's truly so insignificant in the scope of the world can tear you open, as if along perforated edges. It reaches in with delicate, nimble fingers that dig to your core and bruise. Its process is swift and alarming, like a fall that takes your breath. You're left with a hollow shell of a person, a wound that feels so overwhelmingly real that you could brush your fingers against it and wince.
How could I have been so stupid.
My sophomore year ends in exactly one week, and I can't wait to get out of this hellhole.
How something that's truly so insignificant in the scope of the world can tear you open, as if along perforated edges. It reaches in with delicate, nimble fingers that dig to your core and bruise. Its process is swift and alarming, like a fall that takes your breath. You're left with a hollow shell of a person, a wound that feels so overwhelmingly real that you could brush your fingers against it and wince.
How could I have been so stupid.
My sophomore year ends in exactly one week, and I can't wait to get out of this hellhole.