"Artis."
I was tired.
I was done.
I've had enough.
I leaned on your lockers,
not sure.
Everyone stared.
Artis Hart, one of the perfect girls who didn't feel the need to fit in
and Ethan Brewer, one of the cowards who was afraid of never fitting in.
"Hey," you breathed out and maybe it was me,
or maybe it really was.
But right then,
you had sounded breathless.
I couldn't help my loser smile.
Because at that exact moment,
under all those scrutinising gazes
and relentless whispers,
I felt lucky as you buried me inside
your sunshine eyes.