Music was the cure. 

It helped her smile through her lowest,

it was her only happiness 

Until she laid her eyes on something she’d never thought she would see…

Music’s lifeless body. 

Her eyes flooded like a monsoon would to her neighborhood.

She clutched music’s body close to her chest 

And cried until her throat felt like sandpaper. 

She frantically tried to feel for a heartbeat.

But nothing.

The song ended. 

————————————————————

“You guys would be a perfect couple.” 

I know. 

“I bet he likes you.”

No, he doesn’t.

“Do you see the way he looks at you? He’s totally in love.”

He’s looking at my chest not my face.

“You guys should totally date!”

I would for who he is as a person.

He would for my physique. 

His sharp jaw. 

His pearly white teeth.

His milk-chocolate eyes.

His perfect posture.

The glasses he wears to read. 

The silver ring that sits on his index finger. 

The way he rests his head on his hands when we’re watching a movie.

The way his nose scrunches when he tries to hide his smile. 

Everything about him.

He’s a perfect polaroid. 

———————————————————————-

284 direct messages. 

Nothing from him. 

Should I double text? 

No. it’ll make me seem clingy. 

Delivered 14 hours ago. 

The time just keeps passing by. 

Tik Tok, Tik Tok 

I got a message. 

It’s from him. 

A picture he took in the mirror.

He’s breathtaking. 

But why’d it take him so long to respond? 

Should I send her a picture back? 

Or is it too much? 

Sent. 

Delivered 10 minutes ago.

Delivered 4 hours ago. 

Delivered 12 hours ago. 

Seen. 

And the cycle begins again.