I sat on my bed, eyes wide, mouth slightly hanging open, with my widened eyes also glued to my glowing iPhone screen, staring at Gwinam's Snapchat story.

God, I should have removed him, I thought to myself.

I stared at the girl in the video with him. She was gorgeous, well of course she was. She had long *insert hair colour* coloured hair, and bright *insert eye colour* eyes, as she was laughing along with him, clutching onto his right arm in the film.

He laugh was so... clichè, he laughed along too, his gorgeous, drool encouraging laugh. I hated it. I felt sick to my stomach. the fact that I had fallen so hard for him, the fact that he was all I wanted for months now, and he just did this. It was the fact that this girl was just so gorgeous, but not just that he had found another beautiful girl; it was the fact that he had once again found another girl like me, or should I say On-Jo at this point?

The thing that hurts me the most was the fact that I had just liked him so much, yet little did I know that he just liked me because I looked like every other goddamn girl that he had liked.

I closed my eyes, feeling myself fall into a heartbroken dream.

The illicit love affair maimed my broken soul as I walked across the empty wasteland of my once loveable, but now corrupted heart. His touch once brought forth an incandescent warmth within my dulled luminescent character, now littered with the echoing remanence of one's so evergreen yet poisonous disposition.

Meaningless words ricocheted around my compressed and compacted mind. How I wished one could just stay in my memories. Locked away, in a secure prison where one could never escape. Yet the behemoth of my past shows up just to prove to me all I loved and all I lost.

People never change, they just become better at hiding things, they become better at lying. How am I supposed to move on when so many voices are still holding me back. Screaming the words that once broke me. Tore me down. A smile and a simple "Hi" on one's first day of school can truly change everything. We are all just expected to move on when something hurts us, yet how are we supposed to help ourselves when nobody really wants to help us. Hate is what we all feed off and thrive in. We all live in the fucked up society of guilty until proven innocent, yet no one is truly innocent. We all have blood stained hands. Something we are all so ashamed of. That one thing that haunts you in the middle of the night. Hiding away tucked right at the back of your mind. The one thing that you wish for nobody to ever know.

Life is just a battle field. War. If you don't burn you will get burnt. But what happens to those of us who get both?

When you are sixteen, everything feels like dying. Whether you had just failed a semester in school, or maybe you and your boyfriend have finally called it quits.

Summer love starts out yet so sweet but can end so sour, and the second you can finally manage to call it love, it breaks you. A burden, something to maime you, to never call it what it was. Love. But how does one know that they have fallen in love before it is too late.

You don't. You just fall.

Jump then fall.

It feels like Autumn leaves falling down like tiny puzzle pieces into place.

But in reality, falling feels like flying till the bone crush.