smirks and subtle glances. the sound of feet against earth. chivalry might be dead, but courage isn't. choppy cuts and shared smiles and approved nods, combat boots and sarcastic expressions. the change she wants to be in the world, advocating for what is right. graffiti for good, defending those who can't defend themselves. too many secrets and not enough time, says the most beautiful things when no one is listening.
flowing dresses and lips quirked up ever so cunningly. condescending looks and intimate caresses. mesmerizing dark eyes that go straight through you into your soul and ever so unreadable tilts of the head, seemingly resigned sighs. beauty might be dangerous but intelligence is lethal- and beware, she wields both like a double-edged sword. i told you so and power walks and pep talks and all the things she wished someone would give her. the problem with being the strong one is no one gives you a hand.
that feeling right before your feet touch the water, then you are completely submerged. powerful strokes and gentle touches. longing for worlds you'll never know and promises you'll never hear. the feeling of sun against your skin and the wind in your hair. late at night rambling about soulmates and first loves and how beautiful and how untrue it all is. messy art and scribbly handwriting, she doesn't have to be good at something to take pleasure in it.
flower crowns and dandelion wishes. starlit walks and moonlit talks. pressed flowers and highlights and laughs you would do anything to hear. the queen of the universe, your best friend. like glass- looks so fragile, and yet withstands flames no one else can. wishing upon and star and knowing that wish will never come true, so why do i do it anyways? everyone likes her but only few truly know her, fewer she loves. be careful- those same lips that laugh and smile can spit poison in a blink.
when both hands are submerged in cool dark earth, biting into food and letting all the flavors bloom. witty comebacks and clever crumpled poems left in pockets and on desks, citrusy teas and picking out earring that match your eyes. climbing a wall into a forbidden, overgrown garden. without shoes and without socks and wiggling your toes in the dewy moss. playing the piano in an abandoned church, hearing the sound echo back at you. everything she touches is left with a part of herself. if you're supposed to follow your heart, if it's in a million pieces, which do you follow?
the sound of a orchestra perfectly in unison, bows flowing as one. sitting down to read a book in the morning, looking up and it is nighttime. cold drinks on hot days, the light from her smile lights up the world. running down a library aisle, fingers grazing the spines while absorbing their tales. waking you up late at night, beaming about the meteor shower in a couple minutes, begging you to get up and watch. taking care of a small city garden on her rooftop, appears so lonely and yet accompanied by a thousand ghosts we cannot see.
riding a bicycle around the beach and painting shoes, writing stories that'll never get finished and watching old movies. sudden haircuts, staying in her room figuring out the right ukulele chords. she is her one moment and gone the next, a fluid creature, never staying still. questioning everything and anything, receiving mail from friends that you though long gone, your name written neatly on the center. feminism and peaceful protests (but that doesn't mean not passionate) and hoping one day, humans will see each other as humans, nothing more, nothing less.
finding your old playlists, listening to it, letting the memories flow through you. sharing earbuds and pinky promises and laughing at all the stupid things we did in the past. sparklers and popsicles and vintage aesthetics. no minimalism for me, no sir, maximalism at its finest. glass bottles and homemade bracelets and looking up at the sky, knowing there are still stars you have seen and memories you haven't made. poking holes in erasers during class, avoiding questions that she doesn't want to answer. if chaos is a art, her heart is a masterpiece.
jazzy tunes and lofi compilations. she has eyes like the sun and a heart like the sea. puns and counter-puns and jokes that only she gets and staring at a blank google document late at night, waiting for words to come. tracing fingers on the scars lovers left on trees, knowing that each holds a story to tell. cryptic hints and knowing eyes and pretending to not hear someone through headphones. dancing in your own world, not caring who is listening, twirling while it rains. looking out her window, knowing that she'll be nothing but stardust and moonlight one day.
shifty eyes and trickster smiles. you'll never get to know all of the facets of her, there are simply too many. quoting obscure fictions and faraway looks and thoughts more tangled than her earbuds. reading lists that only get longer, the jack of all trades but the master of none (except possibly procrastination). lips pressed together and raised eyebrows, be careful- she is holding back her thoughts, her most dangerous form. mocking looks and hiding behind wit and taking 'it can't be done' as a personal challenge.
messy braids and sun-bronzed skin, eyes that seem to have flecks of light. when you come out of art class and your hands and arms are streaked with paints and markers. amazed gasps and quiet laughs and things so subtle no one will notice. counting freckles and self-applied nail polish and knowing one day she'll meet someone meant for her. naming clouds, climbing trees, photographing things she doesn't want to forget. you know, if you want to truly know what someone fears losing, watch what they photograph.
gliding on an abandoned ice rink, feeling the morning chill on your fingers. loose sweats and thin jackets and hair up in a loose ponytail, coffee as bitter as her past. gold flecked marble and neutral colors and somehow making that fashionable. city sights and late nights and fairy lights strung around where no one but her can find them. dreams no one knows about and impeccable class notes and exasperated chuckles. enamel pins and fraying patches and her denim jacket with so much history no one dares to ask about.
there are couple references to quotes in there, because i couldn't help myself.
people disagree on certain gemstones, so i just chose ones that were the least similar in my eyes. i worked on this for so long i can't look at it anymore haha, i know some of them aren't that good.
which one are you, month wise or personality wise?