Wednesday, May 15, 2013
My Emotions.
The emotions sweep over me and I close my eyes, willing away the memories. 'Its over, done with. Don't dwell on it.' I remind myself, slowing my beating heart. I bite my lip to hold back the warm tears pooling in my eyes. Why won't these feelings go away? It's been weeks, almost a full month! Why won't the memories fade?! When I open my eyes, I see him. The curve if his jaw, his smile, the way his eyes light up, the way he teased me and made me blush, and smile, the way his lips felt on mine, the way his hair fell into his eyes, the way his cheeks changed color when he blushed, even just slightly. And then, it ended and that when the anger hits. The way he just cast me aside like a piece of old meat, the way he stopped texting me, just have up on me. I think and think and think, trying to understand, but I never do, so I give up and just stare at something, focusing on nothing.
Friday, May 10, 2013
First blog..Kind of excited (: Not really much of a blogger, also I'm really busy so please, don't be mad if I don't update EVERY DAY. K? K! Here's the first post! Enjoy! ;P
Two girls, both freshman, stand in front of our biology teacher's room, talking. Two more go and join them, possibly gossiping, most likely complaining about the four hour test we just finished. One girl writing in a composition notebook; The other students look at her as if she's the alien and they're the humans. She looks at them as though she's the one holding the pen, because she is. She controls their story, or at least what goes on the paper. Groups merge, a crowd assembles, two teachers walk among the students, talking quietly. Couples hold hands, hug, whisper things they're too afraid to say out loud. A few feet away a group sits, talking, about what, the writer doesn't know. Old friends, people she doesn't know, people that know of her skills but not her name. These people don't know her, except for a select few. Alone, always alone; always writing; thinking, planning. That's how she prefers it. There's more anger in her than people know, or would guess. These people, her classmates, disregard her, label her as the unsociable nerd, the band geek who's always alone. Well, they're wrong!
(Hehe I like colors! ~ Kailyn!)
Two girls, both freshman, stand in front of our biology teacher's room, talking. Two more go and join them, possibly gossiping, most likely complaining about the four hour test we just finished. One girl writing in a composition notebook; The other students look at her as if she's the alien and they're the humans. She looks at them as though she's the one holding the pen, because she is. She controls their story, or at least what goes on the paper. Groups merge, a crowd assembles, two teachers walk among the students, talking quietly. Couples hold hands, hug, whisper things they're too afraid to say out loud. A few feet away a group sits, talking, about what, the writer doesn't know. Old friends, people she doesn't know, people that know of her skills but not her name. These people don't know her, except for a select few. Alone, always alone; always writing; thinking, planning. That's how she prefers it. There's more anger in her than people know, or would guess. These people, her classmates, disregard her, label her as the unsociable nerd, the band geek who's always alone. Well, they're wrong!
(Hehe I like colors! ~ Kailyn!)
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