Literature
Untitled
Her eyes are gleaming and I can feel my heart clawing at my rib cage, whining at me to be let out. But I will not comply, because I am not quick to trust and she is a storm that will leave me empty. I know this. All the same, every time I wake I feel her skin on my fingertips, her breath on my neck, her voice on my ears, her gaze on my eyes. I am beginning to understand what it means to love someone and completely hate them all at once, and god I hate her. I have been told I keep good eye contact, but with her I can only look at her lips, her hair, her hands, her feet. I cannot bring myself to look her in the eye because there is a fire there