Just a beginning note: this is one of my favorite things I have ever written. I wrote it in 7th grade and it still means so much to me. I love this Alex fellow. So, without further ado, I present:
Alex.
Alex, skin as light as day, but hair the color of midnight.
Alex, attempting to survive.
Alex, smiling on the outside, crying on the inside.
The sun to annoy, the moon to inspire.
Alex, surrounded by many, understood by none. Death is his only friend.
Haters make life harder, internet makes life worse.
Alex, eyes like storm clouds, but the sun is still out.
The glass neither half empty, nor half full.
But shattered on the floor in a million pieces.
Alex, brokenhearted and lonely, searches for a friend.
Follows music instead of rules.
His parents like burglars, breaking into him and stealing what little happiness he has left.
Alex.
MARCH 5th
7 years ago
Do I remember this? This sounds like your character description in response to "Salvador, Late or Early" by Sandra Cisneros. It is amazing work. I am so glad you saved your words!
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