If you look at her you would see her hair up, her clothing dark, her wrist covered. Why do you only see the things she wants you to see?
Max is destroying her self. Does she care? No. She loves the burn of tobacco smoke. The slice of a razor blade. The laughter of her friends. The weight of a bottle of pills in her hand knowing she could end it all right now. She won't she only likes to think that. She love the smell of fresh cut grass. The drag of a ballpoint pen on paper. A ray of sunshine streaming through her window. She sets down the bottle, the joint, the blades, and she thinks.
If you look at him, you would see choppy black hair, his dark eyes impassive and emotionless. Under these layers he is cold, he enjoys the taste of liquor. The thrill of buying his drugs, he love the high that he gets when he breaks the skin on his legs. However even under that that he enjoys the taste of coffee. The sound of a howling dog. Fang stops himself from putting the rope around his neck, and he thinks.
You see his blue eyes or his cane tapping out the clearest path. You don't hear his muttered thoughts. You don't feel the stares of strangers piercing his skin. You don't feel the poetry he writes in brail. Your don't understand him pressing the seating hot iron into his pale skin. You don't see that he has a love for the girl down the street, or know that she wants to protect her.
Do you know that she is the only one who keeps Iggy from killing himself. He looks at her house of horrors, and thinks...
You might see her makeup looking flawless, her eyes bright and awake. Do you see her bruises hidden by couture tops? Do you hear her screams of pain and fear as she is being bashed and beaten? No, Because Nudge keeps herself closed. She loves fashion, and driving cars. She loves the idea of true love, but at this point she doesn't expect much. She puts the back in the cabinet and turns the key locking it back up. Out of sight out of mind. She imagines love, and thinks...
Gaz has problems, the institution wouldn't take him back. His parents sent him off to live with his little sister. Better to just sweep them under the rug than have to fuck up kids. His first apartment burnt to the ground. Heat lamps that kept his pet boa warm they said. His next house went up in flames too, this one they they never found the cause of that one. He tries again and again but he never quite gets it right. He tried pills, guns, blades, etc… but he never got the nerve to do it. And so he thinks...
Angel loved the thought of being skinny, she wouldn't eat for weeks at a time. She ate only an apple on the monthly cheat days. She was slowly killing herself, but as long as she was skinny she couldn't give a damn. Her arms were twigs and her legs could barely support her. She thought she was beautiful. She lived with her brother. He didn't care as long as she wasn't dead. She sees other girls, and she thinks...