I stood there just standing over the crowd. Watching, Scouring, Smiling. Watching is the best way to know more about people, and what they are made of. Sometimes it's harder, who they are may be covered by a scrap of cloth or a sheet of hair. But most of the time, people want you to know what they are made of.
The words were imprinted from birth, you couldn't change them. They were simply fate. My friends are made of sarcasm, one will fight against a god -however improbable that is, it will happen- my best friend will get married to someone close to them, another will die with only friends.
I know these things because I was warned of them, I was warned what they were made of and what they would do, I knew what I was getting myself into and I did it anyways.
Me? I don't know what I'm made of, I've never asked but I assume the people who do know what I'm made of, they must think I'm made of something pretty great. If they didn't they could leave me and find someone who they didn't need to be cautious around, if that were the problem with me.
I see a label from my spot high above the street, on the back of their neck just like everybody else.
A label that reads : Warning: contains depression, will touch the the stars.
The person wears a black shirt with a N.A.S.A logo, I smile to myself. Should anyone read that label they would think the person would kill themselves, but no this person is a dreamer and wants to go to space and they will, I know this.
(Okay so this was based on a prompt where every person has a warning label about like who they are and what they will become and I thought it was interesting. this isn't edited and I wrote it during lunch at school so it may not be the best but I think it's cool)
CITEȘTI
Oneshot poems and stories
PoezieA collection of short stories and poems. Mild-severe trigger warning, some to a lot of these were written when I had depression. *I wrote everything please don't steal it*
