literature

and i won't do this alone.

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Literature Text

she slips out the door.

he doesn't chase her. it isn't worth chasing. in a week there'll be another just like her; silent screams shaking her being and her heart was just another malfunctioned toy on the floor. there had been plenty of ones before, and later there'll be more.

his eyes are empty now. there's no way to see what's in his head or his heart. did he know what he was doing? did he know how she'd been broken apart?

it's not my fault, she thinks. she ducks under the window because the thought of him seeing her one last time is just too much for her to bear. she weaves from streets to streets and buildings, so tiny in the sprawling city. it was never enough, her half-decided plans. i can change him, she thought. she will never 'think' again.

the boy who never blinked decided not to say goodbye. i'm sure this is her promise to a better life. he didn't flinch at all when she sobbed, or the door softly shut. maybe it was never even real love. faded wishes in sepia-tone fill the air, and for the first time in a long time the girl with the downturned smile is getting somewhere.

on the corner of johnson and ervay waits a boy with pretty eyes and open arms, and a smile to die for. and it was all the girl had ever wished for. in the back of her mind, twenty boys in a line. one who never blinked, one who tried not to cry. one best friend, and one who never thinks. each one was a part of shaping her soul, but she still has on her running shoes and a million miles to go.
i'm not dead.

i am not one of the girls you go through in a week. there is no such thing as love in a day. and things will get better for me. but they won't for you, unless you let them.
--
hi everyone. wait for some poetry/prose, because i'll be writing some. i'm getting home from dallas tomorrow.
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worldsendinwhispers's avatar
dallas has done you good; this is wonderful.