And on the one day I needed you, really needed you, you aren’t there. After days of complete torture and hurt, I expect to see you standing at my door, ready to make it better like you always do. But you weren’t. The blame can’t entirely be on you, though. I can’t say that. I surely had a lot more faith in you than I should have. So I will close the door and walk away, maybe we will meet again another day.
—  you weren’t there
If you never let them in, they can never leave.
—  ten word story by shelby leigh (@nothingwithoutwords​)

Sweet is what she wanted your lips to taste
tartness fizzled
on the dips
of her lips

because she knew
your tongue had been dishonest.

She watched how lies
slithered out of your perfect teeth
snuck into her ears
but without hesitation
she forgave you.

When you’d crawl in bed,
shaping your body
with hers.
She’d let go of your every mistake
because your skin felt soft,
when it was actually cracked.
And your words felt real
and your lips tasted like
strawberry starbursts.
She never told you
that was her favorite candy.

Except her teeth
began to rot,
the cavities began to hurt,
the touch of your body
started to sting
her body was rejecting you.

And the day you left,
she purged out every fucking memory,
soon sweetness became acidic
no longer craving your tongue,
just the burn from it.

—  Two Lovers (edited)