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"A character is never the author who created him. It is quite likely, however, that an author may be all his characters simultaneously."
Today I will wake up
Make coffee
Get dressed
As always

I'll walk to the bus stop
Sit on a seat where plastic meets rubber and cold calls it home
Take a sip of coffee to warm my throat
As always

Walk into school
See the same friends
Eat the same breakfast
As always

Go to classes and get the same reminders of owed work
Eat the same low standard meal shoved into my mouth like cows being fed
I'll go home
As always

Argue with my sister
Sit on my bed
And sleep
As always

But this time I'll wake up
Slightly earlier than my nap usually lasts for
An unfamiliar buzz in the air
Coming from my phone
Your name across the screen
Telling me that you'd like to be
My always
I saw you this morning,
You made me weak at the knees
Next time I'll brace myself
For when your smile breaks my heart
I was dreaming of a girl I know, and I woke up with these words barely lingering on my lips. I'm glad I could get them written down.
She makes the sand,
the sand seep away.
Little locket on her chest,
with her steps a gentle sway.
Though her eyes cast
a tender gaze,
her fiery heart sets the sky ablaze.

Dry rain and dry puddles,
never will she stop.
'Til she stumbles to her knees,
the dusty ground, fiercely hot.
She cries out in pain
and laughs through tears,
a withered smile
of withered years.

She sees me.

Her faces relaxes,
her lungs give out,
her limbs betray her
and with one final strain she says:
*I can't hate.

— The End —