rose petals

The long, angry glares sent across the classroom became short glances accompanied by dusts of pink across cheeks. The mean, hurtful comments sent from one end to the other became nothing at all, in hopes that humiliation could be avoided. The loudness in the classroom became silence, the fear became shyness, the hate became affection. The glares in the hallways became bashful smiles. The feeling of invincibility became a feeling of needing to look good. The desire to cause pain became the desire to cause happiness. The once dark thoughts became bright, positive ones. The hole in a heart became a full, beating completion.

The shyness turned to emptiness, the loudness became nothing. The short glances were short-lived, and the bashful smiles vanished. The feeling of needing to look good was replaced by the feeling of needing to survive, and the desire to cause happiness became the desperate cries for recovery. The communication came to a cease, and the strength to weakness. The full, beating heart returned to a decaying hole in a grey one.

The desk was entirely useless, replaced with another owner. Attempts to hurt and cause pain repeated themselves, coming back once again. The angry glares were being relived. The decaying hole in a grey heart turned to an empty expanse of vacancy. The wishes to feel more fell to wishes of nothing at all.

Their love fell to survival, which fell to a failure; his replacement became just as bad, and the hole in his only heart could never be repaired. They fell apart like rose petals on thorns and could never be put back together.