9:50
insight thirtythree it sits in my stomach, like a balloon. just blocking the path for food, keeping me full for starving days. the pain sits there, making me feel sick and weighed down by the regret and things I should've said, and the things I shouldn't of. a silent tear roles down my face and I picture you, standing there perfectly pixilated at the bus stop, smiling as a come to a stop at your side. your freshly cut blonde hair ribbon tied into parallel pigtails, just swinging above your shoulders. a long neat tie lying low underneath your top button, shirt tucked into a black pleated skirt. I can never look at knee length socks and skirts in the same way again, you suited them so nicely. your piercing eyes gleaming as your bright smile infects another onto my face. it sits in my throat, like a rough spikey tennis ball, making it hard to breath as that one song comes on, or that one view reminds me of who was my best friend. I told you a lot of things, you listened and he...