mochiirin

Your eyes peel open uncomfortably through the bright glow plastered on the wall. Small clacking noises come from a nail tapping on a screen. He’s flat on his side, scrolling through what seems to be a message board. Although you think it’s nothing important and the looming feeling of sleep threatens to resettle into your bones, you fight the drowsiness and focus your vision on what has your boyfriend occupied so late at night. His shoulders are at first broad and block out much of the screen’s view, but then they deflate a bit and you can just barely make out a long, blurry wall of text with horrible grammar and a few curse

{x} [even the memories, even those regrets lingered there with me, missing you so much] What have you done? Filling every inch of my empty mind with your face, those wheezing giggles, your smile, you. Maybe it seemed okay at the time. I was in control and I knew about you, from what others knew about you- I knew you were dangerous. My heart is weak and easily charmed by you, by the smolder of your eyes that cloud my conscience with thick, black smoke. I led myself into your realm, into the depths of the black held in your palms. I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy. I'm only a little crazy. People around me begin to notice it too. You're all I e

tell me, tell me why you're still here, under the heat of boiling rain. is it not too much? you're so brittle, a blade casted too firm; they're blinded by the bright polished metal, and then wonder why it shatters like glass. i want to dam the rivulets that stream over your cheeks, your bones that try and stand firm, enduring the smallest of currents your ground, your soil, your body washed away by time, your worn and rusted boat. you always try to mend it yourself and i tell you that it's stupid- it's foolish to keep doing it just because you can. but you keep going, searching for that place they call happiness and you put your faith

“You’re an asshole. You’re a jerk and I hate you. You grow up way too damn fast. But still… it’s going to be hard to forget… everything. And I’m going to miss you,” I nearly choked on my tears upon saying those last few words, “…A lot. ------, I’m going to miss you.” His name drifted past my lips as she released the shutter, my friends remaining silent as they watched me nestle into the makeshift pillow of my dry, chalky arms. “I sent it,” the spectacled girl tells me, her lips pressed into a thin line noticing how shaky I was at the moment. A long string

He's used to the buzzing. Of course he is. It rings like normal, with the occasional dips in the frequency of the old thing. For once it's a little bit less tolerable to hear. He doesn't know how long he's been standing there, or who's still accompanying him. Probably no one, as the room is blank again and the sun casts an angelic yellow glow across the space. Sugawara can only concentrate on the rosy colour slowly draining from your cheeks and lips. He drags a finger over the cooling skin, sighing as a few drops of his tears shed themselves for the first time in ages. It was like death hadn't completely taken you yet. So he remains there

i change depending on how you're feeling that day. sometimes i'm sweet, sometimes bitter. sometimes I don't provide enough for you and I leave you unsatisfied, so you take more from me. or you just throw me in the sink when you get home and grab a cup of coffee instead, beacause it just does more to you. i wish i could always be enough. i don't ask for you to choose me- that's your decision. i'm always slightly disappointed when you don't, but it's fine. you told me that the cup tasted brilliant, and i just say thank you to that. sometimes I can tell you're lying. i can tell when your short goodbyes that leave me hanging tell me i need

I order a small coffee with  two pumps of caramel and extra foam because I know you'd do that. The waitress hands me my drink and I wish that you were there to hold it for me. It burns my skin and leaves red marks in the grooves of my fingers; the ones that should be interlaced with yours as we sit down and warm up together. Winter nips at my toes and nails and I remember the day you would give me your scarf that's all different shades of blue and black. I know you would. You were so nice to me. I'm wearing leggings and boots that I'd never think of putting on back in the day because I was afraid of standing out to you. You'd tease me for we

you should be over there, not with me The walk to volunteering was the same old dreaded path, characterized by awkward stares, a blank expression plastered over my face, and the light patter of footsteps and murmurs that echo through the high space. It was the same… but… different somehow. Maybe it wasn’t the space that had changed, no- it still appeared like it was before; the snow, the nipping at my cheeks after the cold- it was probably just me. My anxiousness had faded long since that week, and I thought I had overcome the nervousness that came every time I thought of him, but it still managed to make my hands tremble

The fresh scent of dew and the earthy furnishings in your home were always pleasant to wake up to, eyes weighed with fatigue and the heaviness in your bones gluing you to your bed a comforting restraint. Your body is airy, chilly, and frail under the sheets, and in nothing but your undergarments that let your limbs lay loose against the cool linens. Crisp white curtains dance by your bedside, a bright sun cascading to the floor bathing the room in a pale yellow aura. The window lets in a soft breeze, distant sounds of traffic being carried along with it. The rest of the space is silent, and you almost fully close your eyes, sleepiness claimi

You were completely lost. Every touch of the wooden keys makes you forget where you are, makes you let go of your situation- nothing matters, except for your music. The sweet sound created from the ebony instrument in front of you. You do not dare to open your eyes, afraid that you may see something that disturbs the harmony that resonates with each hammer of the strings. It's a sweet yet lonely tune you play, alone, in what you know to be a concert hall, or at least, it appears to be a concert hall. With the environment holo masking your true whereabouts, the resemblance, at least visually, was uncanny. But you knew, spiritually, this was