all my friends were vampires
it’s 1994 and you’re babysitting your neighbours kids while a monster roams around the town. you’ve heard the ghost stories and the news reports but your dads rifle is out of ammo and there's a rapping at the door
all the mirrors are smashed and all the photo albums are burnt and you feel better than everyone else for a moment or two
the smell of dew atop petals in the morning. fog surrounding your car as you and your closest friends drive into the nothingness. the feeling of nans knitted jumpers and watery hot chocolates from struggling coffee stores. those songs from childhood burnt into a cd and sung at the top of your lungs.
i'm a creep. i'm a weirdo. i don't fit it and i don't want to fit in. ever seen me without this stupid commie pin on? that's weird.
swinging on the creaky swing-set at your local park
263 notes · View notes