TheLateBloom
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Stories (16)
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One Foot out the Door
I walk into the room mid conversation and there’s no recognition that I am there, a usual response to my arrival, but tonight it can be blamed on the music and the people that serve as more of a distraction than good company. I shrink past the crowd in the kitchen to the solo cups waiting to be filled with anything strong enough to empty you of emotions so well you’ll be convinced that you can feel again. I am drunk, I am high, and there was mention of Molly, but Hannah went upstairs with Brian 20 minutes ago and she’s the one who bought it off of her brother's roommates. I wonder if they already took it. Someone should warn them that sex on molly just creates an unrealistic expectation for how deeply you’ve bonded with the person, practically the birth right of a toxic relationship. I fill my cup to the brim and lift my head. I’m surrounded by strangers, less like the people you don’t know, and more like the familiar one you no longer recognize. I make eye contact with a girl I had biology class with in high school and I quickly look back down at my cup. After standing against the counter, trying to find my sober mind in an addicts body, I decide to refill my drink and step outside.
By TheLateBloom 2 years ago in Fiction
Down the Aisle
I look at you down the aisle and I feel the blood drain from my face as it turns into hands that wrap around my chest while collecting into pools in my throat. I hope I don’t have to say anything. You’re draped in white and yellow, anything bright enough to shield you from the harsh colors of reality. Your light always complimented my dark, somehow leaving me warm, but exposed and burnt. I showed you exactly how each knife entered my back, some of the wounds still stitched and bloody, and you never once looked away. You embraced me, not like a victim but like a warrior, explaining how I have never battled a fair fight. I didn’t want you to see me. Our lives were never reflections but we learned from one another. Your room smells like nail polish and vanilla candles while mine is all smoke stained walls and ash covered side tables. We were never meant to last. I fumble to find my feet as I turn around before you lift your head. Part of me wants our eyes to meet, for you to be flooded with flashbacks of me, but I think ultimately it’s better for you to forget. I want you to never look back and wonder what could’ve been because I know in my heart you’ll find better.
By TheLateBloom 2 years ago in Poets
Now and then
Time didn’t exist with you, instead we lived moment to moment without being confined by the edges of the hour. There were lifetimes in the seconds spent wrapped around each others fingers and their permanence seemed to linger as we forgot to watch the clock, but when I remember, I am reminded of all we are not. We are not the forever served on a silver platter, we are the nows that we choose not to let go of even when accompanied by their problems and perhaps we’ve been too naive to solve them, but still we cling to their certainty, to the reality where you and me make it past our point of no return, to the future that only exists in fairytales because it will forever be a fantasy found in my dreams. I dream to wake to your reality, where we exist indecently intertwined ignoring all of the warning signs that our time is running out. Because with us, like with anything that lies beyond what we can fully comprehend, we were destined to be misunderstood, so we pretend we don’t understand that there are only so many seconds to an hour or so many hours to a day. We pretend so we can have a forever, even if it only fits into our now.
By TheLateBloom 3 years ago in Poets
Lightbulb Moments
Everyone is searching for their answers. The answers that will justify how they live. How many times must you change to reflect what you are being shown, rather than accept your own face. What is it that scares you about creating your own destiny? Is it deciding on a path or the lingering fear that you don't have one?
By TheLateBloom 3 years ago in Poets
Silence in Nature
The view from the top of the world leaves you feeling like you're the only one in it. Miles of untouched land that you can’t see come to an end, but you know it does. Surrounded by the echoes of bird calls or the rustling of leaves, there’s never any silence in nature. Just soft background sounds that leave the air feeling still. Being serenaded by the birds and the trees feels as good of a goodbye as any, but still something is missing.
By TheLateBloom 3 years ago in Fiction
Before it Ends
It's the kind of cold that creeps into your bones. The streets are now covered in layers of snow and the constant chatter of my teeth continues to echo inside my head. My fingers ache as I reach for yours, placing my hand in your pocket. I feel your palm press against mine, but you never turn your head to look at me. I miss the weather when we were on the train to New York and It was like the colors of the trees were dancing off your skin, with the sun peering in through the window. You would glance over and I could see the reflection of myself looking across at you in your eyes. I like remembering when we used to be our favorite people to watch. I pull my hand back to open the door for you and I watch as you walk past me like the stranger who forgot to say thank you.
By TheLateBloom 3 years ago in Humans
If You Asked Me How I've been
It's one of those days you can feel; sunny but cold, with wind loud enough to hear as it runs through the branches. The kind of day that kisses you with a sadness that you crave more of. It’s been distracting me from the slow movements of the morning. Today feels a lot like when we were together and for some reason I've grown attatched to reminders.
By TheLateBloom 3 years ago in Poets
First Day Jitters . Top Story - September 2022.
The cool air of the moon still lingered through the morning as my eyes opened to the light. I pulled the covers over my face in hopes of returning to the hours of least expectation, recreating the darkness to hide from the affliction of my responsibilities. To no avail, the alarm rang into my ears and shook me out of bed. I dragged my body to the edge of the mattress, ripping the blankets from my sheltered skin, to embrace the sting of the unforgiving breeze. The crisp cold greeted the tip of my nose as it leaked in through the cracked window. It was the only way I could ease my bones into sleeping, but it always became somewhat of a rude awakening. I stumbled over, collecting what was left of the joint from the night before, and pushed the window closed.
By TheLateBloom 5 years ago in Confessions
A Letter to Myself for Someone Else
To the girl who is always smiling, determined to show the world positivity even when she forgets to save some for herself. To the girl who ignites the spark in eyes that were convinced they would never be seen, who finds genuine joy in discovering other people's happiness. To the one whose heart breaks when she overhears someone being rude to their cashier, who was once on the other side of that transaction and could transform the frowns that were brought to her into belly laughs that healed both of us, even if just for a second. This is for the girl who tries so hard to love the world, despite the amount of time it has denied her of the love that she deserves. To the one who will never surrender her soul because she is certain it was made to heal the pain created on this planet, even through the moments she cannot find the energy to heal herself. You my dear, are the strongest woman I know.
By TheLateBloom 5 years ago in Families
Full Moons
That's the thing about this city, you’re either coming or going. If you stick around long enough you’ll end up forgetting who exactly you were when you arrived. Nothing ever stayed consistent. The trends, the businesses, the people, the personalities. The only thing that remained the same was the traffic and the glimpses of sunlight that caught your eye as it flickered between the buildings. I missed the summer breeze of the open country, but the opportunity here was undeniably worth it. I worked at an art studio at the corner block of my apartment, and I never ran out of inspiration. The concoction of faces you could encounter just by stepping outside, I grew a deep appreciation for the influx of people. The variety of backgrounds that molded each individual differently. I made a habit out of getting too involved out of sheer curiosity. Diving deeply into the history of the people I, then, considered to be friends, but that term was used loosely here. Most of them were concerned with the latest gossip or who could get them the next best thing. I never understood how they ignored the complexity of stories shared, always ready to flip it back to themselves and what they know. Strangers could become intimate encounters if they could only learn the art of listening. Humanity was patiently waiting to be heard and I was eager to learn.
By TheLateBloom 5 years ago in Humans
