Jillian's Monologue

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A monologue I wrote about how everyone feels once in a while... hopeless. I don't know what genre to put it under though.

Submitted: January 10, 2008

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Submitted: January 10, 2008

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Now you see me. You, with your one dreamy, light blue eye visible to everyone else and your other eye, a secret hiding from the world underneath your midnight shaded hair. As you walk by, you flip your hair by the motion of tossing your head to the left. Skin that looks so smooth from a distance, and always in the latest punk band shirt and spiked belts that touch just below your waist where you hang your pants and a brief tease of your boxers (checkered pattern today) show. I drown myself with thoughts of how much you mean everything to me. Your torn up gray converses, with lyrics written along the sides, I imagine you wrote them like a sensitive poet that clumsily strokes his guitar along the campus benches just underneath the trees on rainy afternoons when no one would care to hear but me, whom I only wish you noticed.
You smile in front of me. Dimples growing slowly onto your face as you glide your arms so sweetly into your Underoath band hoodie and give hand shakes to all your boys in the doorway of your class. I take a deep breath and smell the sweet cologne. Getting high off the scent, I let my mind wander in thoughts of me drowning into your hoodie safely with the scent caressing it. Your snowy white teeth and dimples belong to me and you whisper sweet nothings to make me giggle under oceans of rain on a spring day. The dances we take in the pouring rain (I just know you enjoy the rain like me), the ice cream that drips onto our converses, stupid arguments over who could roll down the hill faster, watching stars as they chase the sun away, falling asleep under huge trees. It all could happen. But it doesn’t happen and now you’re gone. You just vanished into a closed-door classroom.
“Why can‘t I be what you see?” as I take one last glimpse at you through the small window by the door. I walk away, a lonely ghost burning down dreams.


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