I am not a graceful person. I am not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2am, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don’t belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn’t happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don’t see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.
I want this at my wedding.
This sounds threatening.
- Two families enter.
- One family leaves.
The Wedding Games
May the bouquet toss be ever in your favor.
OH MY GOD
I love how Tumblr can turn something super sweet into a Hunger Games AU.