Aug 2013
There was once a girl who observed the little things more than a normal person would do, rather, be capable of.
She paid attention to the rhythm of the tapping of his fingers. One, two, one, one. How there will always be three lines on his forehead whenever those thick eyebrows scrunch. Her fingers itched terribly to touch his forehead, just to take away those creases. It ached her that she can’t. She will at all times notice that same torment in his features whenever he knocks on her balcony door. She knows it’s about his father, drunk yet again. She feels his pain and embraces it. She saw the innocence in his eyes whenever he passes her his cup or food and after she takes a bite, he would eat it again. He didn’t mind if his own food was contaminated by her saliva – this was the thought that would keep her awake all night. Would he mind then if they kissed? She knows his car only runs by unleaded gasoline. She love when he asks for book and song recommendations even though her taste was weird. It jumps from classical to melancholy but he was interested at most and writes down every title she says. She is well aware of how his skin gave off immortality. Whether it was just a teasing poke or a caress that means everything to her.. This too, will leave a mark. She also knows about the tattoo of his sister’s name placed below his collarbones. She came with him when he got it. She’s conscious whenever he comes across anger or how he appears godlike as usual. She appears confident but she was good in faking it. Her soul’s cores are more live than ever. And how he looks at that very girl, the one surrounded with more pretty girls. He asks if she’s okay that he would leave to talk to her. She says she doesn’t mind at all. Go ahead.
He walks to that very girl with luscious fire-red hair and twinkling almond eyes. He gives her a smile she hasn’t seen before. She feels like she’s falling. Only there isn’t a place where she’ll crash down. Just falling. An eternity of it.
The Moon whispers to her, “I chased the Sun down too. Look where we both are, defeated and insane.” His arm snakes around that very girl’s waist. She’s pricked by the thorns of a red rose. All over her body. Slowly in, slowly out. Then again and again.
Ah, the agony of the little things.
She paid attention to the rhythm of the tapping of his fingers. One, two, one, one. How there will always be three lines on his forehead whenever those thick eyebrows scrunch. Her fingers itched terribly to touch his forehead, just to take away those creases. It ached her that she can’t. She will at all times notice that same torment in his features whenever he knocks on her balcony door. She knows it’s about his father, drunk yet again. She feels his pain and embraces it. She saw the innocence in his eyes whenever he passes her his cup or food and after she takes a bite, he would eat it again. He didn’t mind if his own food was contaminated by her saliva – this was the thought that would keep her awake all night. Would he mind then if they kissed? She knows his car only runs by unleaded gasoline. She love when he asks for book and song recommendations even though her taste was weird. It jumps from classical to melancholy but he was interested at most and writes down every title she says. She is well aware of how his skin gave off immortality. Whether it was just a teasing poke or a caress that means everything to her.. This too, will leave a mark. She also knows about the tattoo of his sister’s name placed below his collarbones. She came with him when he got it. She’s conscious whenever he comes across anger or how he appears godlike as usual. She appears confident but she was good in faking it. Her soul’s cores are more live than ever. And how he looks at that very girl, the one surrounded with more pretty girls. He asks if she’s okay that he would leave to talk to her. She says she doesn’t mind at all. Go ahead.
He walks to that very girl with luscious fire-red hair and twinkling almond eyes. He gives her a smile she hasn’t seen before. She feels like she’s falling. Only there isn’t a place where she’ll crash down. Just falling. An eternity of it.
The Moon whispers to her, “I chased the Sun down too. Look where we both are, defeated and insane.” His arm snakes around that very girl’s waist. She’s pricked by the thorns of a red rose. All over her body. Slowly in, slowly out. Then again and again.
Ah, the agony of the little things.
