How easy to be drawn into new charms. The smell on your clothes after he leaves, and you’re the grinning fool, chuckling into your toothbrush as you recall his clever lines. You snuggle into the white sheets and feel the ghost of his lips on yours. His taste. His force.
You feel yourself opening again, and almost before it begins, you snap shut.
Not today, charms. Not today, laughter. Not today, tender touches in the dark.
You were open, once, for another, and he pulled out your insides, piece by piece, and scattered them across the floor. He smeared walls with you and left you limp.
No, now is the time for safety. You caress the empty side of your bed. You’re much safer alone.
Flaw Salad 
Leave a comment