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Description
I glance glumly at the wall in front of me. Cracks like veins had rippled up the side, causing a broken look to form. I couldn’t bear to look at it. My eyes grew glossy and I sniff loudly at it. Grey chipped paint was rubbing off in curls, barely noticeable handprints imprinted on each of the four walls. My mind creating the scenes that made those prints. My heart feels like stones piled in one gigantic mound as it dropped into my stomach. I lurch forward at the feeling.
She’s gone.
She’s fucking gone.
And all I have are these cracks in my room.
I walk to the wall I had been staring at for hours. Pressing my hand to it, and feeling the coolness from the outside seeping in. I let my other hand curl under my nose, sobs begin to bubble in my chest. Then they erupt from my mouth like a volcano. Chest racking sobs, throat closing, unable to breathe sobs flew from my body. My head bumps on the crack in the wall. I tried swallowing down the noise but I gasp for air and tears fell from my eyes.
“Come back,” I whimper, barely feeling my hand slam on the wall. I scream and sob, my body falling to the ground. It instinctively curled up in itself, allowing me to wrap my arms around my knees and cry into them. Tears blur my vision and I try blinking them away, along with moving my hair from my face. “I fucked up,” my voice cracks with emotion.
“I fucked up.”

****

I remember when we met. Fucking teenagers, not knowing what was going to happen after high school, not even caring either. Our minds stuck in a constant flow of alcohol and cigarettes. Letting cancers into our bodies willingly just to look the part, ditching classes without a care for these cancers as they consume our lives. I remember being young and experimental. Hormonal and insane for most of the 24 hours I was awake. I remember her auburn hair and big ass glasses that took just a bit on too much of her face because she was insecure. I remember that hair being tied into a tight bun, and myself taking forever to take her hair out so I could run my fingers in it. The way her sea green eyes sparkled when I called her name in the hallways, her peach smile. The way our skins melted in our touches, vanilla to chocolate. The way she’d complain about how hard it was to comb my hair.
I remember it all.
And fuck I miss it.
But maybe before I talk about my downwards spiral, I should start with my upright flight.

Description
I glance glumly at the wall in front of me. Cracks like veins had rippled up the side, causing a broken look to form. I couldn’t bear to look at it. My eyes grew glossy and I sniff loudly at it. Grey chipped paint was rubbing off in curls, barely noticeable handprints imprinted on each of the four walls. My mind creating the scenes that made those prints. My heart feels like stones piled in one gigantic mound as it dropped into my stomach. I lurch forward at the feeling.
She’s gone.
She’s fucking gone.
And all I have are these cracks in my room.
I walk to the wall I had been staring at for hours. Pressing my hand to it, and feeling the coolness from the outside seeping in. I let my other hand curl under my nose, sobs begin to bubble in my chest. Then they erupt from my mouth like a volcano. Chest racking sobs, throat closing, unable to breathe sobs flew from my body. My head bumps on the crack in the wall. I tried swallowing down the noise but I gasp for air and tears fell from my eyes.
“Come back,” I whimper, barely feeling my hand slam on the wall. I scream and sob, my body falling to the ground. It instinctively curled up in itself, allowing me to wrap my arms around my knees and cry into them. Tears blur my vision and I try blinking them away, along with moving my hair from my face. “I fucked up,” my voice cracks with emotion.
“I fucked up.”

****

I remember when we met. Fucking teenagers, not knowing what was going to happen after high school, not even caring either. Our minds stuck in a constant flow of alcohol and cigarettes. Letting cancers into our bodies willingly just to look the part, ditching classes without a care for these cancers as they consume our lives. I remember being young and experimental. Hormonal and insane for most of the 24 hours I was awake. I remember her auburn hair and big ass glasses that took just a bit on too much of her face because she was insecure. I remember that hair being tied into a tight bun, and myself taking forever to take her hair out so I could run my fingers in it. The way her sea green eyes sparkled when I called her name in the hallways, her peach smile. The way our skins melted in our touches, vanilla to chocolate. The way she’d complain about how hard it was to comb my hair.
I remember it all.
And fuck I miss it.
But maybe before I talk about my downwards spiral, I should start with my upright flight.