Fate Has A Strange Way Of Making

But The Thing About A Cry For Help Is That Someone Else Needs To Be Around To Hear It.

Sometimes Desire Is Air, Sometimes Desire Is Liquid. And Every Now And Then, When Everything Else Is Air And Liquid, Desire Solidifies, And The Body Is The Magnet That Draws Its Weight.

He Was Attractive. I Knew That. And I Knew That Attractive People Always Got Away With Things.

Luckily, Tiny Texts Me Every Five Minutes Or So. I Don't Know How He Does It Without Getting Caught In Class. Maybe He Hides The Phone In The Folds Of His Stomach Or Something.

Every Two People Cause And Intersection. Every Person Alters The World.