WAKING UP IS PAINFUL.
my lungs ache from the heaving sigh i took brushing my hair, then again when i exhaled the cig sitting between my teeth; long hair looked nice on me. that's what everyone said. my own brown eyes bored into the mirror, spotting every beauty mark, blemish, and everything so faulty about myself. they say one has to embrace their flaws to love their self. i think i liked it, but looking closer i saw how sunken my eyes were, the paleness of my lips, the dark circles dangling from my eyes. i think i'm tired.
after fifteen minutes have passed and smoke is starting to fill the locked bathroom and disintegrate my oxygen, i decide its enough and somehow drag myself out. i don't know why.
i have to leave in ten minutes. i still lie down.
life moves faster when you're asleep; i'm late for the bus so i'm drenched in the end of summer drizzle. there's no point in running there; my body already hurt enough. the rain frizzed up my hair and absorbed into my clothes in the pattern of oddly placed polka dots. my head cranked upwards, and the grey canvas that swam past the expanse of the sky made me frown. the grey reminded me of how it used to be blue, and blue reminded me of my uneaten breakfast, the unfinished homework, and my unwillingness to tend to life today.
i light a cig though i don't crave it. sometimes i wonder if i want to get addicted.
YOU ARE READING
ring pops and cigs
Teen Fictionthe cigarettes won't save me now. yet, the lungkiller sits mercifully between my teeth to grant me a temporary bliss in exchange for my health. it's not like i'm going to live forever. OR i've glitterglued my bones together and taped my eyes open;...
