377. In potions, muggleborns sometimes pretend that they are Gordon Ramsay and start yelling things at each other. Purebloods are confused.
|I would’ve never believed that I’d forget you:
the sound of your laugh, the size of your hands,
that one day I’d have to rub my forehead
like a genie’s lamp to pull out your last name.
I would have slit my tender paten to pulp
to shake bloody and swear that one day
we would share a last name, or at least
a flamboyantly oversized prom picture.
But now, I could form a terrible band
with all the boys I thought would pant
their presence forever on my heart, but
instead evaporated almost completely,
leaving only the tease of our nicknames,
the soft ghost of their favorite tee-shirt,
and the dusty ordinary ellipse of what
could have been.
Putting on makeup is such a spiritual experience I watch myself go from a 3 to a 9 right in front of my mirror I love it
no, if you are putting on makeup, I don’t care who you are or what you look like, you go from about a 10 to 1
keep talking shit you gonna go from a basic ass 2 to a 6-feet-under