reír

I eat yogurt. I wear a dress. I write sad stories and forget about them.
I'm bad at words, phones, and feelings. I don't like when it snows but when it rains I like to dance outside.
Sometimes I pretend I like the snow just to see what it's like and it really isn't that good. So I will eat it because that's good. The band Astroblast gives me the heebie jeebies and I listen to them sometimes, alone in my room. My stuff's piled everywhere and it feels like I'm leaving and never coming back.
I'm happysad and just kind of curious sometimes, what it would be like.

I like to write and type words, it's the speaking part that trips me up. Other than orally, I love words. I love the way they look, what they do, how they sit there and just wait for someone to come along. Because alone, they're nothing, they mean nothing, they could be anything.

Right now I could be anything, since I'm alone. It's when I'm around other people that I'm me. But not when I'm alone, I could be anything, anyone, anywhere, anyhow. I am all those things. I am ten feet tall and my toenails are blue. My arms are bamboo and I have noodles in my hair, braided and tied neatly with the reddest ribbon you'll evernever see. I smell like peaches and disappointment because I don't know how to make her stop crying, or why she's even doing it to begin with.
She's sitting by the doors, all of them, any of them and being sad and I wish I could make her happy but I can't. She fell asleep on my floor for a little bit, but then a big spider crawled up to her and I told her to move. Not to leave, but that's what she did.
I followed, I guess, but she just cried and cried.

I stood out in the fourteen degrees of it and I told her I loved her. Mi querida, I called her, mi solo, mi amor. Regrese a mi, tu eres triste y queiro verle reír. My legs were cold, dresses aren't good for this weather, but she came back anyways.

I never saw her laugh.
She's asleep and I hope the spiders won't get to her this time.