(no subject)
Nothing has felt comfortable in so long, but here I found it (comfort) sprawled out on the bathroom floor, heavy sighs and your eyes - you make me laugh until I feel covered in that glow we've got. Next year what new rooms will hold our secrets; our rants and loves and wants? My mind is smiling, diving into all the imagined corners and doorways.
I was packing my first box, this time my fingers are grateful for the tangible end. They are that much more excited for the unpacking, of these; books I don't read, photo albums I barely look through, candles I've never burnt - these are always the first that get put away.
"Gangsta's Paradise" comes on through the shuffle, and in minutes I've got tears clouding my veiw of what's in my hands, and I cry for what's happened, and worst of all what may come.
I wanted to put my wings back on, and fly out to the woods; for answers or some kind of peace. But no, here I am, with a headache pounding between my eyes, and I've got work to do.
I could fill so many pages with what this year has meant. I am hoping that in a week, when I turn twenty, I can start something fresh, and flush all of this out - I need room for what I hope will come.
I was packing my first box, this time my fingers are grateful for the tangible end. They are that much more excited for the unpacking, of these; books I don't read, photo albums I barely look through, candles I've never burnt - these are always the first that get put away.
"Gangsta's Paradise" comes on through the shuffle, and in minutes I've got tears clouding my veiw of what's in my hands, and I cry for what's happened, and worst of all what may come.
I wanted to put my wings back on, and fly out to the woods; for answers or some kind of peace. But no, here I am, with a headache pounding between my eyes, and I've got work to do.
I could fill so many pages with what this year has meant. I am hoping that in a week, when I turn twenty, I can start something fresh, and flush all of this out - I need room for what I hope will come.