Blind Eye.

july 17th, 1975.

if this is my heartache, then let it be mine to endure.
permit me to feel it's entirety.
don't tell me how much of you I should love.
for I would break the restrictions quite easily.
you're on my mind all day, and my full brown eyes betray my cover of being 'just friends.'
I wonder if you can feel my gaze, screening over your tensed shoulders, tawny skin, in comparison to my bone white complexion.
like black and white, shadows and the light, and the sun and moon, we were contradicting, but we fit.
to bad it was only platonically.
but the most striking detail was your hazel eyes. they were closer to brown than anything, yet they were decorated with hues of peacock greens, and gold rimmed. everyone could easily see each nook and cranny where they could see you, for who you were.
see, everyone could see that you were the handsome, charming golden boy.
and you could read everyone and lift them up to be celestial.
even so, there was one person you could not.

to james potter: fuck you and your blind eye.

ERIENNE MONET WAS AN ABSOLUTE MYSTERY. If you asked around the school to tell you who she was, everyone could do it with ease and point to the raven haired beauty. She lit up the halls and everyone stared as she went carefree with a worn out tape recorder, clutched in her porcelain hands, yet would bloom in pink from the action. But if you inquired about something other than her relentless hobby of recording who knows what, they could not tell you. And like any other quiet person, that's what she preferred. She was full of secrets and that inked tape recorder held every single one of them.

She spent her passing periods in her dorm, writing songs, and reciting poetry. She would gather the ivory and elegant patterned pillows and start to let her mind wander. She would look around and let her mouth run, with metaphors of suffering romance, a newfound cut on her finger, and even the chasing of a moth. During the summer, she indulged in other creative artistry with her single father and absolutely enjoyed her life. Sometimes, she would even create mixtapes and balladry through the night, awe inspired by the idea of moths, fireflies, and night time lovers. Erienne was truly a diamond.