#lichacha

Christmas = Capitalism

Valentine's Day = Heartbreak; Loneliness

Birthday = Mortality

this is inspired by this post and goes out to my friends. sadly inspiration left me and my friends did too. 

Friends

She looked like sweater paws and kittens.

She was short, very short in fact. Her posture made her look even shorter than she actually was. It hid her otherwise great figure.

Her hair was curly and black, styled in a “bisexual bob”. Her style either soft punk or indie artist chic.

Fall colours is what suited her best. They complimented her olive complexion. It wasn't unusual for her to have paint stains somewhere on her skin from the all-nighters she spent drawing and painting.

Her Smile resembled Andy Samberg's and her laugh was more physical than vocal. When she laughed her eyes would be screwed shut and she would bare her teeth but there wouldn't be any sound. Her laugh was silent.

Her personality was quite and loud at the same time. To other people she seemed well behaved and shy, which might be true, but the people that really got to know her knew that she was actually cheeky and mischievous.

He was handsome. So handsome in fact that I don't believe him saying that he doesn't see it.

He was an indie boy with a skater style and a rap taste in music. Boys like that are rare to find.

His hair was curly like a sheep on his head but he preferred it straight.

His bone structure was exquisite. High cheekbones, collar bones that created dimples in the negative space, pronounced hip bones and a jaw that could cut through glass.

He didn't know how to talk to girls. Or maybe he just didn't know how to talk to me.

His thought process was way different than the people around him.

It's morning. You haven't opened your eyes yet but you know from The light that shines through your eyelids.

You think that Maybe you can Fall Back asleep If you Just don't Open your eyes. After several minutes of trying you finally give Up. You Open your eyes and See me lying next to you. You Always woke Up before me. Usually you'd get Up to Go to the backery but Not today. Today you Just keep lying next to me. You think about all Kind of stuff and absently start to stroke my skin. That makes me Smile. You Always Used to call it my sloth face.

You start thinking about The old Times. We couldn't See each other that often. Every few months you'd come to Visit me for a week or so.

It was hard but we managed.

You also remember all The Fights we Had and how often we almost Broke Up. We Used to fight passionately. We'd both say stuff that we shouldn't. There were Times where we didn't think we could keep going. But we Always did. We Always made it Work.

That was, of course, ages ago. You remember The time when we first moved in together. You left your Friends and Family behind to live with me. But there wasn't a trace of regret on your mind.

We couldn't afford much with both of us being students but we didn't need much anyways. As Long as we could Fall asleep in each Others Arms we were Happy.

Soon enough we didn't Like being alone anymore. We wanted to Share our home and our Love.

You still remember The day we went to the shelter and brought a little doggo Home. It was a poor little Thing. We took him with us because He was there the longest.

At the end of our bed you could still hear him snooze.

Neither of us ever wanted to have children but lately we've been thinking about it. I Always Used to Tell you you'd be great father. You would teach  your kids how to skate and introduce them to your Genre of Music. I could Always picture you and a mini Version of you sitting on The Couch watching old live Videos of Michael Jackson and Eminem.

You Take a Look at The clock. Barely 10 a.m.

You notice me beginning to wake Up.

"Good morning, my Love. How come you're still in bed?"

You Tell me today is Just one of those days.

I shrug and cuddle myself deeper into your side not knowing what busy Things your mind has already come Up with shortly after waking Up.

Tell me that you Love me.

Tell me that you'll never let Go.

Hold me Close tonight because i need you.

Let me listen to your heartbeat.

Make Love to me. Show me i'm yours. I know you'll never Hurt me.

Let The world Go down Outside of this bedroom but in your arms i feel Safe. We'll have our battlefields between The sheets.

Come on, Angel, don't leave me tonight.

I'm waiting for a message from you. Afraid to go to sleep cause I might miss you.

I know it's hard for you. It's hard being an angel in a world of sin.

Evil demons try to lure you in the darkness but you are strong.

Don't you ever forget.

You might be innocent and kind but deep inside of you there's a fighter willing to do anything to protect those you love.

Willing to protect me.

But don't play strong. Even an angel needs help sometimes.

I'm here to help you.

I feel just as lonely as you but with you by my side I won't be afraid.

It's not easy being in love with an angel but we'll manage because we always do.

And all those struggles we face will make us stronger. They'll make you stronger.

You deserve to be happy.

He was yellow. Like the sun.

‘Till he came along she never liked that particular colour.

She liked dark colours

Her favourite colour was burgundy, her favourite songs were a variation of blues and purples.

Yellow was plain and had no depth. At least in her imagination.

Yet here she was. And there he was. And she adored him.

He didn’t look yellow at all though.

If anything he looked like an old flannel.

Red and white and plaid.

She, herself, felt like a minty colour.

They complimented each other eventhough the colours didn’t fit at all.

But that’s what made them perfect together.

Looking at him was dangerous. He was dangerous.

It was like starring directly into the sun. Or was he like a car crash?

She knew she shouldn’t look but she couldn’t turn away.

He made her world a little brighter and a little more colourful.

And when he left, he took all the colours with him.

Her world was grey.

Her favourite songs didn’t have that beautiful colour spectrum she was used to when listening to them.

The sky was blue, the grass was green and the skyscraper were grey.

She percieved the world like anybody else would.

When he came back, it was like a sunrise. A bright horizon. Like the beginning of the Lion King.

And at night when they would lie in bed she’d look up at him and she’d feel serene and she’d feel save and she’d feel nothing but love.

And he would look down at her with that smirk of his, that would’ve made her weak in the knees if she wasn’t already lying in bed.

Next to him.

And he’d ask her what she was looking at.

And „You are my favourite colour“, she’d say.

And he’d let out a sound. Not quite a chuckle, not quite a laugh. But nonetheless the most beautiful sound she’d ever hear.

And at night they would lie in bed.