We sat in our alcove and I wanted to be quiet. So we were. I watched our thoughts float through the air like little wisps of smoke. You thought about Autumn and her journal and how she has only been there one night and has already filled up nine pages. And you thought about her scratching her pale arms until they bled and how she hears voices that aren't there. And you thought about last night while you felt suffocated by everything and you wanted to take the Oxycodone but didn't because it had expired and you were scared. And then you thought some more about cancer and how much everything hurt but you didn't want to cry in front of me so you stopped. And you thought about Cassie and having sex with her and talking to her and missing her and I don't think you know that it makes me sad. And then you thought about how pretty I looked and our hands were touching and our faces were so close and all I can remember thinking about was that in that moment everything was pretty ok.
There is a month-long winter of beauty, while the fresh powder is still white and rests on the twisted limbs of lanky trees. There is no limbo; the moment that the beauty disappears is the moment that nature moves on, the snow becoming watery to make way for the lush green warmth and life that will emerge just hours later. Beautiful. Beautiful. Nothing is ever not beautiful.
Tentative. Tentatively dancing. Not around the fact that we really don't want tomorrow to come or that you had sex and didn't really like it I'm not sure about that or that you want to die if your cancer comes back or that you cried when your hair fell out or that you're sterile Probably or that the awkward girl is too shy to kiss you last week or that you think I'm pretty And that I shouldn't be so self-consious or that the girl in my sculpture class wants to kill herself because of you Not really or that you loved that song Instantly or that I think no one's good enough or that you want to watch the sunrise with me...
Paige and I went on a wonderful adventure last Friday.
She and I both had eighth period study hall that day. We both knew that sooner or later we would succumb to our desires of wanderlust, and the dark, rainy day held a strange air of promise. We gathered our things and managed to leave the school completely undetected; having a clear school record and a face that is seldom seen in the principal's office is even more useful than for the obvious reasons.
I fed the CD player a compilation of adventure-esque songs, carefully ordered in a near seamless gradient from acoustic to electronic. I could feel tentative excitement begin to rise in my chest as we pulled out of our school's parking lot and began to drive down our town's heavily-wooded back roads.
To Dunkin' Donuts, Rite Aid, a thrift store, Stop & Shop and back again. A vanilla coolatta (even though I asked for coffee), a sugary doughnut, a roll of film, a flowery blouse (that I didn't have the $10 to pay for), mint gum, Mr. Clean magic erasers, my very first Twinkie (absolutely terrible), my sports bra and spandex, a stupid-looking up-do, and telling my mom that I had spent those three hours running with Paige at school.
It's healthy to go adventuring every once an awhile, I think.
Everything is a cross-processed shade of yellow and blue, specs of grain hiding in the shadows. We dwell in a small town we love to hate, soft light forever dancing on our flawless faces. Adventures with beautiful friends and boys who give us butterflies, blessed with the ability to find excitement behind every corner. Sipping Cola at retro diners. Finding stray cats. Trying on oversized sweaters in thrift stores. Spiked Arizona green tea and bongs all colors of the rainbow; both functional and meeting the standards of our aesthetics. We eye the pink horizon as the daylight slips from our grasp again. But this is not the end. Far from it, actually. The night is when we truly come alive. The soft, round edges of loud bass in our ears, strobe lights in our eyes. As our vision blurs, so does our perception-- but that's okay. We're safe among the mess of hot flesh and spilled drinks.
[not quite sure what this is supposed to mean...it's a tad shallow, butahwell]