hey, it’s me. your body. your friend? look, i know you get sad sometimes. I understand, I get it. I’ve been there. but i don’t appreciate the thoughts you spit into my mind. I understand that you’re invincible because nothing worse can really happen to you anymore; you’re already dead. but where would you be without my skin? you’d float without purpose or thought with no solid form to cling to-- no direction.
please don’t kill me
i’m just as lost without you as you are without me.
hey. sorry i know it's late. sorry i haven't been responding to your texts and probably calls. got my phone taken away. i ran all the way here. i've been throwing m&ms at your window. you know, the old fashioned way with a modern twist. i bought a big bag so i wouldn't run out very fast. my aim is horrible; i've been trying to get one through the window that's cracked open. maybe if you stood in the right place, one would land in your mouth. haha. that might be bad though because you're allergic to the dye in the red ones. or is it blue? i don't remember, sorry. anyway. i know you're probably asleep or ignoring me because who else but me would do something this "rom-com stupid"? well i know life isn't a movie. if it was, it would get shitty ratings. well. i came to apologize. i'm really really sorry i ran over your cat with my car. i'm also sorry that after i ran him over, i backed up to see what i'd run over and ran him over again. i'm also sorry i sneezed on you.
i remember when we were both small, and you were afraid of thunderstorms. we shared a room during this time. i slept on the top bunk of our bunk bed.
on those summer nights when dark, flickering clouds rumbled over our heads, you'd climb the ladder to my bed and i would remind you of what we learned from watching Winnie the pooh at mémè's house: count between thunder and lightning. the longer you can count between them, the farther away the storm is getting.
i'd tuck us both under the same blanket and together, we counted away the storm.
summer ended, but the thunderstorms that so often sent you up the bunk bed ladder into your big sister's arms didn't fade like the green of the leaves.
they moved inside.
night after night, thunder roared in the kitchen and lightning snapped back at it.
One in 7 billion. well, that’s… humbling. pretty big number. maybe it’s a bit hopeful. I could make an impression on every person I see! too bad most of those impressions will be wasted by saying something dumb/awkward/ accidentally offensive (sorry). I mean, people are going to know who I am, I can’t control that- I go to a public school. But I think I just feel small. One in 7 billion. sometimes it feels like the most I’ll ever change in this world is a light bulb.