breathe again

[MICAH EMERSON TORRES]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=valign,top][STYLE=width: 230px; border: 10px solid #2c2927;][/style]

[atrb=valign,top][STYLE=background-color: f8f8f8; width: 230px; padding: 10px; height: 250px; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px; color: 2c2927;]Things never seemed to work out the way they were supposed to. Time always seemed to speed past the good and drag over the bad. Sad songs were always remembered long after the happy counterparts had been forgotten. Breakups always did enhance all of this but what happened when the breakup wasn’t even truly real? Could a relationship that never even existed truly fall apart? The question swam around Micah’s head as he sat in the dying grass. It had yellowed from the heat and it felt dry and brittle between his fingertips as he plucked it from the earth. He examined the pathetic stands for a moment before tossing them in the air and watching them leave and disappear with the passing wind. They would swirl about before falling, dead, in another patch nearby and no one would ever know that he had been the one to throw them. He sighed and brought his knees up to chest, wrapping his arms around them and placing his head on top. The air had grown cold and his thin tee shirt was doing nothing to protect him from the breeze. It had been warm just an hour ago when he had arrived but now the darkness had fallen and the sun had abandoned him to deal with it on his own. He snorted, a sound far too loud for the silence surrounding him. He was laughing at his own oddly deep thoughts, they sounded like some god awful novel they were always forced to read in English class. Another sigh escaped him before he detangled his limbs and fished around in his pocket. His finger easily found the small joint and a lighter to keep it company. He placed the all too familiar object between his lips and flicked the lighter until a small flame appeared. The two objects met and he puffed gently, smiling as he found some sort of small release. It was nothing compared to what he was used to, the track marks were proof enough. It was just something that would keep him from falling off the edge and into the dark places he didn’t feel up to revisiting. The places where the memories of her came out to play, never leaving until they completely consumed him. He tossed what was left of his joint and stood up suddenly, his mind whirling. He couldn’t keep doing this, he couldn’t keep coming to this park so near to her. The weed wasn’t going to magically make it easier and it wasn’t going to fix him, he was far too broken for that. The only thing that would help was seeing her although it would most likely tear him apart. She was the most dangerous drug of all and the high just nearly outweighed the crash. Almost. Only a deranged masochist would turn back but he was just that crazy. He couldn’t live without the high and she was just that, the ultimate high. His feet moved without any thought required and soon he was there. He stood in front of the door, his hand raised, poised to pull the trigger. For a moment he wanted nothing more than to turn and run but his feet were cemented to the ground. Another quick breath passed before he let his hand fall, causing a loud, resounding knock. [/style][STYLE=background-color: f8f8f8; width: 230px; padding: 10px; height: 30px; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px;][STYLE=background-color: 2c2927; color: f1f1f1; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: -1px; overflow: auto; height: 20px; padding: 5px; text-align: center;]tagged barbie<3 ● notes <33333[/style][/style]

[STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px;]made by made by minnie of neverland[/style]

[barbie athena lyons]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=valign,top][STYLE=width: 230px; border: 10px solid #000000;][/style]

[atrb=valign,top][STYLE=background-color: ffffff; width: 230px; padding: 10px; height: 260px; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; font-family: arial; font-size: 9px; line-height: 97%; color: 2c2927;]things failed to hold meaning to her anymore. even her own life had become some trivial thing that she referred to as if it were something as inconsequential as a crack in the sidewalk or a stain in an old sweater. barbie had no one to impress anymore, no one to own up to, except logan. that was a bit depressing in itself, but she tried to stay away from any negative thoughts about logan. he had saved her, in all reality, because she'd be dead if it weren't for him. barbie sighed, curling her aching fingers as her eyes stung behind the closed lids. it was quiet, as she preferred it. months ago, she would have been in a different apartment, with a different person, doing different things and the sounds of a happy life would be filling the air. but she had fucked that up for herself, hadn't she? barbie pulled herself up, trying not to wince as her skeleton screeched at her angrily for moving. it was a bitch, and never really improved its mood. the dark bags under her eyes had been there for days, not that she cared. her hair hung limp and messy, and yesterday's makeup remained lightly in gray patterns around her eyes. she was in the kitchen now, pulling a glass of water to her lips. she really shouldn't eat anything else - logan wouldn't be happy if she gained weight. her thoughts swum - six hours and (she glanced at the clock) sixteen minutes ago was the last time she had injected. darkness had fell, though time didn't really mean much to her anymore. it wasn't like she slept. if she was lucky, the heroine would take over her brain and she would shut down and pass out for a few hours. barbie would pray for that much. she bit her chapped lips, tugging the sleeves of the huge beige sweater down farther over her frigid fingers. the only emotion she ever felt anymore was bored, and perhaps tired. that was a lie. barbie felt other emotions fifteen times as powerful, but she had gotten used to swimming them. it had taken time, very similar to the time it would take one to adjust to swimming in a pool of acid. but she had gotten there. she might be a dead girl, but she had gotten there. barbie jumped as a penetrating sound alarmed through her house, turning her exhausted, accusing eyes towards the front door. she honestly didn't know how to react. people had given up on her - stopped trying to haul her out of her apartment, make her go do things, try to make her feel better. they all had gone back to their wonderfully anticlimactic lives, trying to live out every day as if they could possibly ever make a difference in this world. but their bones were the same as any other bones in the graveyard. she shuffled her way towards it, not even summoning the strength to wonder who it is, and wrapped her skeletal fingers around the scratched brass handle before tugging it open. the burst of emotion she had upon seeing his face was so painful she could hardly stand it. barbie had thought she'd never have to experience it again. she'd grown so accustomed to her own emotional flatline. but he was everything that she didn't want to feel again. he brought back all the guilt and the anger and the sadness, and all the other feelings along with it. she was forced to remember her past with him, everything she had gone through, all the wanting and none of the having and fucking it all up. over and over again. it was especially bad because barbie blamed herself for everything that happened to him more than anyone. other people seemed to have fucked themselves over, but all micah had ever tried to do was show her kindness. and she was the one who had been the most cruel in the end. her lips parted, and her fingers clutched the woven fabric of the sweater hanging down by her thighs above her tights. barbie hated that she never knew what to say to him, because telling him the truth was so selfish. "micah." the word was faint, as she often spoke now because of fear. his face stung her, the way it looked, and she suddenly missed so badly the feeling of happiness and being carefree and being held by someone who wanted her. she wished she could touch his face, tell her she was sorry for what she had done, because she was. "what are you doing here?" the words themselves were harsh but her tone was gentle, wanting more than anything to have it feel normal to invite him inside. his familiar height and hair made her bones ache, and barbie rocked forward on her toes just barely. [/style][STYLE=background-color: ffffff; width: 230px; padding: 10px; height: 30px; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px;][STYLE=background-color: 000000; color: f1f1f1; font-family: courier; font-size: 11px; letter-spacing: 1px; overflow: auto; height: 20px; padding: 5px; text-align: center;]TAGGED MICAH<3 NOTES OMFG[/style][/style]

[STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px;]made by minnie of neverland[/style]