sometimes the rock grows cold in her hands. sometimes her tears fall like icicles. sometimes, tiny words do matter. sometimes amongst it all, she just wants to be held.

spring's here and the sun's out! But the pile of books accumulate, blocking out the chirping of birds and streams of warm rays. she doesnt really mind being gently placed aside, so many due dates float before her too.. she just hopes this time he wouldn't let go of her hand.
...

rainbows rainbows!! im going to sleep. yes at 10pm! and wake up at 4 or 5 again.. *dies*