soft snow, sparkling. favorite sweaters. steaming hot chocolate and a crackling fire. your best friend holding your hand. dancing in your underwear. red noses and flushed cheeks. a smile.
a sunset in the rain. windshield wiper’s rhythmic swiping. foggy windows. heat blasting in the car. crackling music from fuzzy speakers. weak rays of golden sunlight. suburbia melting in the rain, tires on wet asphalt, your best friend in the passenger’s seat. do you turn left or right?
it’s dawn. you’ve been woken up by something unknown. a cold room, warm sheets. a sleeping cat on the pillow next to you. the sun is only just starting to rise. you turn over in bed and fall back asleep. (summer edition) (winter edition)
the hum of a fan. you’re laying on the floor, too hot to move. tank tops, jean shorts, ice water. the carpet against your back makes you sweat. the dead of summer. underneath the sound of the fan, you can hear the music.
art museums and record players, plaid skirts and old buildings. late nights, stumbling through the dark. wire rimmed glasses. blood on a white page. marble statues, history textbooks, loneliness. gold. the crunch of leaves under your boots.
neon lights. slow dancing, late nights, sweat rolls down your back. everything moves in slow motion. what did you drink? not sure what time it is, not caring. a kiss on the cheek. a smile.
you’re sad and you do nothing about it! wallow in your sadness, baby.
the windows are down. an unfamiliar city. empty streets, bright lights, black asphalt. a heavy foot on the gas petal, climbing speed. nothing, not even the cops, can stop you from going faster. faster. faster.
laying in a meadow, waiting to be taken by the fae. just don’t eat their food.
dance naked in the woods, make a deal with the devil, paint your nails black, curse people!
