Thoughts Of An Alcoholic

ten numbers

Poison: numbers

[1] She places her pencil accordingly into the holder two minutes before the end of the period, quickly brushing her fingers through her hair after.

[2] Wrinkling her nose in curiosity, she peaks a small glance at you with a tight lipped smile.

[3] The bell rings and she makes a getaway sending you a light wave, blushing she hovers away to her locker with butterflies.

[4] I want to punch the grin off your face and leave you in gruesome colors of pain and grief, moaning my name in agony from your toxic filling lungs.

[5] We both follow her as a result of being too invested into the wrong people, the people who like to throw us into the wind of a tornado.

[6] "Hey, what's up?" You smile lazily - popping an arm to the metal surface for support.

[7] "Nothing really, school the usual but if what's up is really about the ceiling and the lights and wires, then yes that is up there. Sorry I'm nervous." She babbles ungracefully tripping over her words, while flashing him googly eyes.

[8] I wish I could pluck the golden rimmed charcoal orbs you have come to adore, jealously filling me like a boiling kettle.

[9] "It's cute, no worries." You smoothly reply, licking your bottom lip out of habit. And, how badly I want to taste your tongue on mine.

[10] She giggles, and you press cherry red lips to her cheek and smirk. Almost cockily, you smirk in success and I think my therapist is wrong because counting does nothing compared to your wicked charms.

s.d