𝟯𝟯. unread mail
song: pretty face
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° ┆
The feeling when you finally realise you're never be able to be a poem, beautifully written and composed.
Never be able to be a song, remembered and euphonious.
And never be able to be a novel, coherent and captivating.
Yet the feeling of becoming the unwritten thought.
The half finished story, and the long forgotten memory.
While the moon is drunk, and the stars are intoxicated.
With the sins from the sun and the sadness of the sky.
Blurs from the earth, and you just stare and wonder why the universe never loved you back.
Staring at why it got lazy when it came to protecting you from the wrongdoings that sent trauma through your lifelines.
Although growing up you realise that nothing will end poetically.
It all ends and we turn it into poetry.
All that blood was never once beautiful, it was always just red.
And embracing that chaos that slipped through her fingertips, watching it paint her life with purpose.
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° ┆
Walking through the door, their school bags resting on their shoulders as stupid smiles never left their faces.
"I never doubted them" JJ spoke with a laugh that ruffles through his chest sending vibrations through his skin.
"I owe you five bucks" calls Kiara as she runs down the steps followed by the rest of the pogues that take the same steps as she does.
Walking on the dock which was crowded by people working, walking, and watching the sea as the small group of pogues ran over with the intention of closure.
Knowing that JohnB and Sarah were alive.
"Kiara, I need those setups done by five!" Her mother called out making the Carrera girl roll her eyes.
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𝗣𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗥𝗢𝗜𝗗, ʲʲ ᵐᵃʸᵇᵃⁿᵏFanfiction
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