2 Drabbles
I felt bad for abandoning this journal for so long so I decided to do something.
Kevin. Bright and happy, perfect. The angel who could light the whole room up with a smile.
An angel with broken wings.
He is like an angel with broken wings, except nobody cares to notice him, torn-up, bleeding, and he's left to bandage the broken wings alone.
He wants someone to hug him close and to fix him.
But angels weren't meant to broken.
He wonders how long, how long before they can't be fixed anymore and the wings give out on him, leaving him to fall to the ground, all alone.
It's like you're falling, but nobody bothers to catch you.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kiseop stares at himself in the mirror.
He sees a pair of dead eyes staring back at him. Like a blown-out fire, one that used to burn so bright.
He curves up his lips into a smile. One that has fooled everyone for so long.
Your lips are smiling, but your eyes are dead.
He doesn't know why he still bothers to smile like this. He doesn't know how.
Faking a smile has become frighteningly easy for him. He likes to think of it as a mask.
A perfectly crafted, intricate mask, hiding everything.
Only the mask is now impossible to take off.
Sometimes, he tries to rip the mask off his face, to show everyone his real self, to show that even seemingly perfect people do break sometimes, but he can't. What was meant to hide all the pain in his heart and protect him from getting hurt again has turned into him.
You can't let them see you break.
And so he keeps the mask on his face, convincing everybody he's alright, waiting for the day it crumbles into pieces.
Kevin. Bright and happy, perfect. The angel who could light the whole room up with a smile.
An angel with broken wings.
He is like an angel with broken wings, except nobody cares to notice him, torn-up, bleeding, and he's left to bandage the broken wings alone.
He wants someone to hug him close and to fix him.
But angels weren't meant to broken.
He wonders how long, how long before they can't be fixed anymore and the wings give out on him, leaving him to fall to the ground, all alone.
It's like you're falling, but nobody bothers to catch you.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kiseop stares at himself in the mirror.
He sees a pair of dead eyes staring back at him. Like a blown-out fire, one that used to burn so bright.
He curves up his lips into a smile. One that has fooled everyone for so long.
Your lips are smiling, but your eyes are dead.
He doesn't know why he still bothers to smile like this. He doesn't know how.
Faking a smile has become frighteningly easy for him. He likes to think of it as a mask.
A perfectly crafted, intricate mask, hiding everything.
Only the mask is now impossible to take off.
Sometimes, he tries to rip the mask off his face, to show everyone his real self, to show that even seemingly perfect people do break sometimes, but he can't. What was meant to hide all the pain in his heart and protect him from getting hurt again has turned into him.
You can't let them see you break.
And so he keeps the mask on his face, convincing everybody he's alright, waiting for the day it crumbles into pieces.