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Haiku and photo: “Prom dress”

Haiku and photo: “Prom dress”

Prom dress
Upcoming Prom /
Your dresses are way too long. /
Anxiety, too.
.
.
#haiku #poem #poetry #poet #writing #writer #tuesday #march #2020 #davidebooker #prom #dress #highschool #anxiety #toolong #knoxville #tennessee


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‘Well I know that you’re in love with him,

‘Cause I saw you dancing in the gym

You both kicked off your shoes

Man, I dig those rhythm and blues.’

TW: blood, injury

I push open the door to the empty gymnasium, an empty plastic cup in one hand and a single rose in the other. As the door swings shut, the sound of music dims. I am just about ready to slump against the wall when I hear something. Or rather, someone. I can’t see them, but they’re crying.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Ethan,” she says loudly. At first I’m impressed that she has the guts to send away Ethan, probably the most popular boy in the year, and then I realise that she’s his girlfriend. I freeze against the door.

“Not Ethan,” I say after a moment.

Olivia Waller gasps. I follow the sound to where she’s crouched behind a pile of gym mats, clutching her phone and a small handbag. “Oh, I’m so sorry- I assumed, I didn’t mean to-”

I can’t help but smile. She looks stunning even with her hair escaping its braids and with her lipstick smeared on her lips. “Here,” I say, and hold out my hand.

She takes it gratefully and I pull her to her feet. She sways a little and I steady her with my hands. A shiver runs through me at her touch. “Thanks, Louise.”

“Call me Lou,” I mutter, a little surprised that she even knows my name. She blushes and nods.

“Lou’s a nice name.”

Her voice is soft; my stomach flutters with hundreds of tiny butterflies. I try to push them out, but they only multiply as I realise that we haven’t moved an inch. My arms are still around her waist. “Sorry,” I say, and step away. She looks disappointed, but I try to hide the fact that the room feels much colder all of a sudden and lead her over to one of the long wooden benches that line each end of the gym. “Are you all right?”

“I’m- I’m relieved to be rid of him,” she admits, then claps a hand to her mouth.

“You broke up with Ethan?”

She laughs. “Yes. Yes, I did. I don’t like him one bit- well, I do, as a friend. But never as a boyfriend.” She spits out the last word like it’s a curse. I smile to myself.

“That’s great. I mean, I’m glad for you,” I say.

She looks up at me, and suddenly our faces are so close that they are almost touching. I glance from her eyes to her lips and back again, and she gives me a half smile. Nerves knot in my stomach, and I set down the cup and the rose, and then something unbelievable happens. She leans into me and kisses me softly on the lips. I am too stunned to react, and she pulls away, but then I grab her face and pull it quickly back to mine, filled with a sudden fiery heat, something like joy.

I melt into the kiss, warmth spreading through me, the butterflies swarming and lighting me up from the inside, and bury my hands in her hair. She smiles into my lips. I smile back. After a moment, she pulls away, grinning wildly, and jumps to her feet. I grab her hand and she leads me to the centre of the room.

It feels like a fairy-tale as she pulls me close and whispers, “Let’s dance.”

“Okay,” I say lightly, “but that music is shit.”

Olivia gives me a long look and pulls her phone from the pocket of her prom dress. She opens Spotify and I watch as she scrolls past about fifty playlists before she reaches one titled ‘Dancing In An Empty Ballroom’.

This is our empty ballroom, and she presses play.

I rest my arms on her shoulders, and she wraps her arms around my waist, and we begin to dance, the music filling me up slowly, rolling and turning like the tide. I stare into her eyes, beautiful green eyes, and watch as she mouths the lyrics to the One Direction song that came on first. It’s all I can do not to close the space between us with a kiss, but I like watching her sing. I join in on the chorus.

We shout the words more than we sing them, but it’s okay. And when I realise what she’s done, I laugh, because the words I happen to be singing are, “I live for you, I long for you, Olivia,” and she’s smirking like she’s the queen of the world, which she probably is.

“Don’t let me go,” she sings, and pulls me into her, pressing her mouth to mine. I breathe in her wonderful scent and break the kiss only to lean my head on her shoulder. The next song to blare from her phone’s tinny speaker is Taylor Swift’s Love Story, a beauty of a song. I almost choke on my own saliva as Olivia does an over-exaggerated performance for me, spinning across the room to the bench.

It becomes apparent what she’s doing when she hands me the rose I had with me earlier, giving me a sloppy bow as I take it from her. I throw back my head and laugh. Warmth swells in my chest. “You’re so great,” I say over the music.

I can tell my the blush in her cheeks that she heard me, but she shouts back, “What?” and cups a hand around her ear.

“I said, you’re so great!”

I dissolve into a giggling mess as she does it again. “Come on, I didn’t hear you, what did you say?”

I almost scream it this time. “You’re so great, Olivia.”

She launches herself at me, almost sending me crashing down to the ground with a bear hug and peppering kisses on my face. “I know,” she laughs, and then adds, quieter, “I’m also a little bit tipsy.”

I shove her against the wall and lean over her, enjoying the way she’s staring at my lips and teasing her with one hand in her hair. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” I say quietly.

“I don’t think you did.”

“Well, Olivia, you look beautiful.”

“You know what? You’re not bad looking y-” I silence her with a kiss, flames licking the space between us.

And that’s when we hear it. The unmistakeable creak of the door being pushed open, and then the gasp. So loud that it could almost be comical. Except that it isn’t, because it’s real.

“Olivia,” Ethan says, his voice low. I try not to look at him. My stomach ties itself in knots and I can feel myself begin to shake. The music stops, and she must have turned it off, but I want it back. Now all that I can hear is thick, dangerous silence. “Olivia, what the fuck?”

She doesn’t say anything, but when she extracts herself from my arms, it is all I can do not to explode. “Ethan,” I say.

“You- you’re sick,” he spits.

“No. No, we aren’t. I suggest that you- that you leave us alone.” Olivia trembles beside me, so I take her hand. She squeezes it, and tears sting my eyes.

“No, how about you leave my girlfriend alone. Get your hands off her,” he growls.

Olivia laughs shallowly. I can hear a sob trapped in her throat as she speaks. “I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Don’t try to fool me.”

“She’s right. She’s mine, not yours,” I cut in. And this is too much for Ethan. A vein pulses in his neck and he flexes his hand, a dangerous glint in his eye. I step in front of Olivia, my heart racing, and that’s when he delivers the first blow.

Dark spots crowd my vision. Everything stops. There is only pain, and white hot anger. “How dare you,” I hear Olivia screaming, and then she falls silent. I sway on my feet, trying to grab hold of her. My fingers close on empty space.

Ethan’s fist slams into my cheek again, this time sending me crashing to the floor. I push myself to my feet and throw a desperate punch in the direction of his attack, and my fist comes into contact with flesh, but my head is pounding and I drop to a crouch, burying my head in my hands.

Somebody help us, I think numbly. A heavy boot slams into my temple, and I cry out.

“Next time you cheat on me, I won’t have it in me to forgive you,” Ethan says off to my right. I spin to see Olivia kneeling on the floor, her jaw bruised but otherwise unharmed. Thank goodness. Nausea washes over me.

“No chance,” she whispers. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I already broke up with you.” I try to laugh, but all that comes out is an odd gurgle. Thankfully, his only response is to storm out of the gym, leaving a path of destruction behind him. The door slams.

Olivia rushes over to me, and I fall into her arms. “Lou?”

“I’m okay,” I murmur. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. You need help, Lou, I need to get help, I’m so sorry.” She has very pretty eyes. “Oh my god, Lou, stay with me- please. Listen to my voice. Just listen. We need to get you some help. Lou. Lou, don’t go. Lou…”

I think about her dress, and for one strange second I can almost see bloodstains on the silk. And then everything is dark, and it is gone.

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Conversation
<p>
<b>Cat:</b> </b> Were you drinking?<p/><b>Arya:</b> Mom, do we really have to do this? You ask if I was drinking, I say “No” and we both know that that's not true. I mean, aren't we past this point in our relationship?<p/><b>Cat:</b> No, young lady, we are not.<p/><b>Arya:</b> Then I wasn't drinking.<p/><b>Gendry (walks in):</b> Me neither, Mrs. Stark<p/><b>Cat:</b> Dear God. Tell me he did not spend the night here.<p/><b>Arya:</b> Mom, do we really have to do this?<p/></p><p/></p>
66 notes

Are prom kings and queens real things? I thought they were just in movies, because they sound made up. How do they pick them? By whoever gets the most votes? Who showed the most school spirit? Who did the best funky pickle?

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She’s like Damn my mother… her facial expressions this entire movie is amazing. Since they barely had screen time I’ve finding all the glances and cuteness.

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Dark Pink V-Neck Tulle Lace Prom Dress,Spaghetti Strap Prom Dress,Ruffle A Line Formal Dress

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my prom theme is mask-erade. i am officially retiring.

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i’m the only one i know that wants a formal prom. i like dances. i like having a reason to dress up, to be all fancy. to do my makeup, get my nails done, actually have my hair in a style different from the four i rotate it in, wear a pretty dress, fancy shoes. i don’t care about having a date, i like going with my friends. is desiring that experience—just once—so bad? most people get two. it just feels like a part of high school i really want after being forced to miss so much, but apparently i’m the only one

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