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.