eleven
her
he is the equivalent
of warm tea and candy
stored with more sugar
than taste.
a rush takes over me,
a sweet trace of the
high side of "sugar high"
is all i can feel in my bones.
his lips fit on mine
like the way your
favorite sweater
fits onto you.
maybe even better.
i fall when he breaks
away. his eyes are
welcoming me into
a new world; one where
more of his kisses would be.
"rose?" he says.
but i can't answer.
the last time a kiss
consumed me in this
manner was the first
time the devil kissed me.
and because there is no
way for me to be sure that
south isn't the devil another
used to be, i have to protect
my poor heart. it has suffered
through way too much.
"i'm can't," i say.
i put a cast around my broken
heart, dropping it again would
begin a series of
shattered, undefinable wounds.
-
him
she puts her weight
on her hands and backs
away from me, as if
i am a monster.
but monsters don't
have hearts, do they?
but monsters don't
fall too hard, do they?
but monsters don't
care for their victims, do they?
"rose, why?"
i stay where i am.
"i can't," her bottom
lip shakes and the rosy color
on her kissed lips is smeared.
"why not?"
"i c-can't."
"rose, please."
"we can't."
there is so much
fear and feeling in
her eyes that i begin
gathering the movie
necessities and shove
them where they came from.
"sorry," i say, "i shouldn't have."
we are on our feet,
ashes of what would've been
hanging in the air like lost
promises.
she doesn't look at me,
"no. you shouldn't have."
ignoring the knife twisting
in my arteries, i nod.
"want me to walk you home?"
"i'll be fine."
"you'll get lost."
"no, i won't. i'll be fine, south."
she draws in a breath,
"you've done enough," says rose.
but the only monster
i want to kill is the voice
in my head, telling me
that i'm an idiot.
that i made an error.
that i crossed a line.
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