she fell.


it came out in a breathy whisper, so quiet the background noise could have swallowed it but somehow it still reached her ears. he pressed his lips to her stomach and muttered, maybe hoping the fabric would absorb his mistake, the remnants of the words could maybe just melt away. iloveyou, he said. he said. he said i love you. and it was all she could do not to scream it back, to fill her lungs with the sound and let it pop like a too-full balloon. it was all she could do  not to drown in contentment and swallow her tongue with the effort. so she settled for brushing his hair out of his eyes and letting it fall from her lips, ikindofloveyoutoo.

they slept.


sometimes it hurts to not hold his hand. it’s a pressure and a weight that even the strongest couldn’t withhold, so she sits there and lets her arm hang limp and useless and lonely because she couldn’t lift them even if she wanted to.  because she can’t think of anything else worth lifting besides his palm.

she used to write stories and pen tales of travel and happiness and horses, but writing of someone else’s happiness distracts her from her own. from his/m. so no words.

she wants to enjoy it while it lasts [because everything has to end eventually]


she really wants to stop falling. she cant see it yet but she knows the ground is hard and it’ll hurt like hell when she hits it.


he tells her she’s beautiful and she shakes her head. “you’re biased,” is her response. “no, actually, you’re blind.”

“no. no. you’re beautiful.” he kisses her but she turns his head and points up-ward towards the evening sky.

“look at those stars. see? that’s unexplainable.” she cranes her neck and her eyes rake over the canvas [and comes to the conclusion its like speckled glitter someone tried to throw away, its like christmas-tree-lights strewn across the sky]

he just chuckles and says “explain this.” he moves and all the sudden she can’t see the sky or the clouds or the stars but realizes suddenly, she doesn’t really care.


she doesn’t want a boyfriend. she doesn’t want to become one of those cliché-crazy-in-love-teenagers that cant get her head screwed on straight. she is a balloon that wants to fly away and doesn’t want any temptation to tie her down.
she doesn’t want to love him.

but she knows she will.


he was a boy with shy eyes and white teeth and a right foot that stuck out when he walked. she was a girl that was lost but ran in any direction her feet could carry her [she figured she’d find a map eventually] and always picked the scenic route.

“who are you?” was the first thing he asked her. she just smiled and spun her arms around and twirled til she was sick and dizzy and falling on the floor.

“something you’ve been looking for.”