Felix's favourite author was John Green. He'd dreamed of a relationship like Hazel and Augustus', he'd dreamed of a mystery like Margo and he'd dreamed of becoming reckless like Alaska.
Those dreams, however, were nothing more than dreams. He would never be a John Green character. He didn't have anyone to warm him until the ice biting at his fingers had melted, his eyes weren't made of galaxies, his body wasn't made of diamonds, his arms weren't made of steel, his hair wasn't a flowing river, his freckles weren't a constellation of stars and his heart wasn't pure gold.
Felix Hemmis was never a walking metaphor.
He was simply a boy.
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an extract from a story i couldn't finish
STAI LEGGENDO
Late Night Thoughts
Poesia["I'm lost in a forest of thoughts and the trees are in flames."] Poems of some sort and thoughts and feelings and questions that will never be answered. Highest ranking: 73rd in poetry - 23.2.16 *cover made by @-misadventures*
