FaberrittanaCaskett

This is the story of how our love crashed and burned in the most non-cliche, cliche there ever was. We never knew where to sit at lunch except maybe anywhere but the lunchroom. She never questioned my need to pick at the endless supply of wasted creativity plastered to the art tables, I appreciated her silent stare. We both have an alarming attraction to crushed ice, I watch with bated breath as she lets it dance on her lips before devouring it between her teeth; she doesn't think I notice, but I always catch the amusement in her eyes when I test liquid color pallets against its roughness. I often wonder if it reminds her too of t

I was floating, unaware, in a stream of my own consciousness, with thoughts flying overhead and my body slowly sinking. I had carried each one of my worries on pebbles in my pockets; there were lost friendships, a bitter broken home, and wasted happiness. Somehow they were the least of all my burdens. The boulder of your love rests on my weary heaving chest, branding my heart and soul with the very essence of your being. I wanted to be your knight, but my armor was made of shining silver and I could not bare to scratch it, in fear of losing it all, failing to realize that I had lost it long ago, when I let you break down my crum