Don't wait for me, not even for a second.
The hurt in your thick lashed brown eyes is too much for me to bear,
I caused it, I made streams flow down your cheeks.
Then I tried to stop them with my soft lips...
But my kisses were colder than ice and emptier than the bottle in front of you.
The scotch flushes your cheeks and makes you warm to touch,
Your long artist's fingers grope my hands and wrists.
We sit close on this stiff blue couch, my thighs touching yours.
I'm looking at the door, awkward, ready to leave you behind in your heartache.
You mumble something, digging in your jacket pockets for a bag of a substance to make you numb.
"Oh god. I'm sorry, I need to go," I'm repeating as I pull away from your grip.
Your gorgeous hands hang loosely and your eyes are dark and pained, heavy with tears.
The beautiful, lush, black eyelashes flutter as you close your eyes,
You're pleading with me, promising you'll wait for me, because you know, I'll come back to you.
I'm beautiful and mildly destructive, I'm sure I'm not coming back to you.
But I leave you with a kiss that cries of the lips of strangers and you tell me how sweet I taste. |
Submission Name: 21 and 18, a heartbreak.
