jacob, my raven-haired angel in red.
i had just moved cities, to a faraway land about eight thousand miles away. i knew no one. i didn't know the language. the sounds of the city drowned me and pulled me into an overwhelming abyss of nightly crying and homesick heartbreak.
i wanted to leave so,
so,
so
bad.
until i saw him.
his dark, swooping midnight black hair, later to be dyed a starlight blonde. instead of crying myself to sleep, i found myself drifting off to the music of his melodic laugh. i could dive and wash myself in the angelic notes of his voice. i knew nothing but him.
we laughed together, and i always let my eyes see his rouge pink lips, rough and chapped under the hot sun. dewy drops of pearly sweat ran down his forehead and down his back, and i even marveled at how he looked just so perfect.
his red uniform clung to his figure after recess and i always stared.
apparently, everyone knew. i always denied their words with harsher ones of my own.
my words were, are, and will always be, my weapons. and i used it to cut down the love i had so tenderly created with my red-shirted angel.
we're friends now, jacob and i. i love laughing with him still, even though he's dropped a few octaves. his smile is still blinding, but has been dulled after years of use. we share stories and talk of people and problems.
but sometimes, when we talk under the flowing twilight sky, i like to wonder what might have happened if my words had watered our roots, instead of pulled them out of the ground.