She holds her hair up with only two chopsticks and a bobby pin.
Think Atlas. Think shoulders.
When your sadness starts to feast,
she carries the light down from the
mountain and hands it to you,
tells you to set it on fire.
Think Prometheus. Think savior.
On Sunday, she steps out of the shower
and you don’t think you’ve ever seen
anything more beautiful than
the way she walks towards you
with a towel on her head,
water clinging to her like there is
nowhere else it would rather be.
Think Aphrodite. Think sea foam.
You love her like mythology.
You love her like the impossible stories of Gods and monsters.
When she sings, think fairies.
Think mermaids. Think hymns.
She is the face of the river that
Narcissus fell in love with,
confusing hers for his own.
She is Medusa’s fury,
You are kissing her in a crowded
restaurant and it feels like praying.
You are watching her instead of the
and you don’t even notice.
Every introvert alive knows the exquisite pleasure of stepping from the clamor of a party into the bathroom and closing the door.
Sophia Dembling - The Introvert’s Way: Living a Quiet Life in a Noisy World
exo? heh no i dont listen to exo.. their music isnt even that goo- [trips] [thousands of xiumin photo cards spill out of my jacket] wh- i dont even know who that is [bends over to pick them up] [more spill out] shi it these arnt mine i- [quickly gathering them up] listen i m just holding them for a friend i- fuck just please dont tell anyone-