August 2011
July 2011
Hold Still →
thisnewreality:
I think of everything: red earrings that looked like buttons. Stealing glances of her journal over her shoulder, glimpsing words and phrases and parts of drawings. Grooves in her fingers from squeezing her pen too tight. The way I felt when she looked at me from behind the lens: awkward, pretty, necessary. Ditching school to do nothing. Blue veins and pale skin. You are such a...
