destroy

conflicted by self-destruction,

i dug my nails into my wrist

until it drew delicious blood.

i glared furiously into the heat

of your kisses; you were too

young to be propped against

the table like that.

people were staring at you all around,

maybe that pleased you.

finally centre of attention.

you were always centre of mine.

i glared and glared.

"shh, shh people are looking."

baby,

even the dusty lyrical genius

of a billion authors were gawping

in wonder from the shelves.

i slammed my book on the table,

months filling those pages with

structural perfection,

only not to be enjoyed because

the scene was too unbearable-

and scraped my chair back, abruptly.

"what's wrong?" you were looking

at me riddled with sympathy.

i threw you a distraught look,

captured in those mesmerising

oceans that passed between us

whenever we locked eyes.

i was drowning.

dying to be with you.

to have you pinned against those

library tables, not him.

kieran was giving me a knowing

look, murmuring against your

slender pale neck. a whole universe

under your skin, polluted by

his deceiving breaths-

i wondered if perhaps i

was tough enough to timber

a shelf onto him, crush him

lifeless like a domino.

kieran sniggered hoarsely,

"maybe he just has a giant

crush on you, skye. and he's jealous.

he'll tell you all sorts of lies

to break us up."

you surveyed me in an aghast

silence, and i turned away bitterly.

"not at all. she's all yours." i forced myself to say.

i walked away then, as

kieran laughed and resumed to devour

your dainty lips.

my fists reared.

and my blush was hot.

fuck, i could have killed him.