Pale.

Pale ivory,
like melting skin beneath my touch.
Pale blue,
like river water.
Can you be so
ceaselessly white?
Like broken porcelain.

- - -

This is quite short, I know. But I like it. SO THERE.

It's very late, I haven't studied at all for my social exam, and I'm writing poetry and texting my new (YAY) boyfriend. Where have my priorities gone? To my words and to my love, I suppose the right answer would be. I'm not sure if that's a good thing, or if I should be ashamed.

But why be ashamed, because I've put my need to be a raging, fluttering, dancing social butterfly ahead of my schooling, again? Or because it's been not even a week and I'm already in so deep. But I can't help it, I'm so in need of someone to share everything with and so in need of pizza (ahem)it's a little bit crazy.

Anyways, better at least take a crack at that studying. At least I have a spare in the morning, so I can also do some then.