porcelain face reminiscent of a beauty so naive
ghosts of unwelcome memories resurrected
ripped from the security within denial’s boundaries
thrust into a whirlwind of hateful confusion
She thought she’d forgotton. Thought she’d ripped up all those cliché letters, teenage declarations of immortal love. Thrown away the meaningless souvenirs binding her to the past. Burnt that very first autumn leaf they found, torn out the page with your solution to Pythagoras Theorum. Trained herself to forget, to forgive, to move on. She truly thought she’d succeeded.
And then ‘It’ came along. Your very own walking, talking, replica.
Shy, innocent wonder. Almost amusing in its politeness, wisdom concealed by half-lidded eyes. Too easily tempted by childish frivolities, a chance to indulge in what they deemed ‘sin’. So very eager to please, puppy-like in adoration, lapping up every word like a starving cat after curdled milk. Contradicting naivety in a shell meant to be broken by the harsh realities of spite.
Perfect. Out-of-bounds. Forbidden.
Foolish heart o’ hers. The sunlight dancing across golden skin, merry laughter the tinkling of bells, indescribable feelings coiling so deep down inside; addling the brain. Words falling unbidden from her lips, a waterfall of pent-up hurt, stripping her of any dignity and self-sufficiency. All for ‘It’ to see.
Unconcealed horror as tears pool in her eyes, a harsh indrawn breath as reality hits home. Turning to run, scrabbling blindly at invisible hands holding her fast, anchoring her to the ground. Coffee lying discarded at leather-clad feet, soaking into lush grass. Choked sobs, smudged eyeliner, a break down.
The final blow. No turning back now.
A whispered apology, the warmth of a reassuring grip, silk handkerchief grazing her cheek. A soft kiss, a tight hug, more useless revelations of the mind. Brushing aside raven locks, a small smile of acceptance spreading across her face. Staggering to her feet, retrieving lukewarm caffeine from the dewy lawn. Insecurities masked, hidden away.
Mission accomplished.
Tottering unsteadily up the driveway, fumbling for that elusive set of keys. Drunken chuckling so sweet to the ear, stolen touches, fleeting moments of passion. Pausing for a second, hands resting on the cold metal of a doorknob, tentative smiles abound. She leans forward ever so slightly, brushes lips against a mop of black hair, then slips into the house.
Now ‘It’ is gone. Blessed relief.
Tears from before coursing down the sharp planes of her face. Ruining the ever-present layer of powder and rouge. Manicured nails glinting red in the filtered moonlight of the window, digging mercilessly into flawless skin. The barrier of flesh breaking at the touch of metal, crimson blood oozing sluggishly from yet another excruciating line. A single, damning thought before welcome oblivion.
I love her.