he doesn't know if it's a good or bad thing that the butterflies have been attacking his stomach all day. he knows what his heart wants, but his head doesn't know if his heart can take too much more. he thinks his heart and his head have made a mutual decision, now the butterflies ease up a little. his heart pounds, waiting, waiting for the right moment. he wants to make sure that things work out the best they possibly can.
the smell of coffee won't come out. after showers and washing hands, it still remains. just that tiny tinge that no one else can smell but him. he's afraid to try the coffees, afraid that he'll lose his taste for it and learn to hate his job. he sticks to teas and fruit, staying as safe as he can. first day of tips, it's a slow day for once. at least it'll cover busfair for the way to the bout on Saturday.
he settles into his skin a little, gets used to all the jokes. he prepares himself for a year of wanting to scream out everyday about how the world is such a cis-sexist place. one last year before the bullshit that is highschool is behind him. he'd be lying if he said he couldn't wait, he'd also be lying if he said he was enjoying it. the only thing keeping him there is fear. he packs away his feelings, ties down his emotions, and braces for one hell of a final drop on the rollercoaster of public school. he fakes a smile, pretending to be in on the jokes, pretending not to want to fight back every time they all start laughing and the expense of the community he calls family. he should stand up and tell them, but that would be too bold. there he sits, one of the girls. they don't even know what lies beneath.
crusified. he feels the nails through his limbs, welcomes their rusty burn. he stares, blank into their eyes filled with passion. their play thing, their puppet, he waits till they sleep. when they sleep, when they least expect it, he pounces. goodbye yellowbrick road. his release, sweeter than any revenge. throughout eternity the soul lives on.
<3 <3
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