Jaws of Love

It's late, it's dark again. I should be in bed because im supposed to play basketball tomorrow at 8 am but instead im lying awake in bed with the lyrics of one of my favorite songs blaring in my headphones. I suppose it is their fault i feel inclined to write, though i don't have any real direction for this to go.

Swallow, Swallow, Swallow, that lump won't go away. One last attempt but its good and stuck. I feel watered down but no matter how hard i try to wet my cracked lips ,my tongue's dry exterior can't accomplish its small task. I guess all the fluid in my body is devoted to this tear. One solitary tear hangs from the corner of my eye like the mark of a killer. Perhaps it's just as symbolic. Perhaps the meaning is more. The rage, the regret, the anger, the mistake. It doesn't matter though. It never does. And so while i watch her mouth move, the apologies, the accusations, the confusion.....my mind wanders, and i don't give a shit anymore. My fingernail seems to be jagged so i pick at it in frustration. The awkward enviroment is a breeding ground for such useless tasks. The nail won't budge, so a quick bite and its gone. My hair feels tangled so i run my fingers through it. Her eyes are red from crying but my feet need fidgeting. Almost comfortable. Swallow, the lump is gone and the butterflies are swelling in my stomach. A whirlwind of tiny wingbeats, delicate, soft, beautiful. Oh God, this thought makes my stomach churn as i remember her voice and for a moment i think back. We are curled up on large blanket of grass, her head on my chest, my hair in my eyes, the sun is setting, our hands are clasped in a sweaty embrace. She looked up at me and blew the hair out of my face, her breath smelling a citrusy fragrence which tangled with her fruity shampoo. Our eyes met....and she whispered she loved me. That too, like small wingbeats of delicate, soft, beautiful butterflies struck me with such magnitude that i was sure nothing could be more perfect then her thin lips and bright blue eyes. I don't know what to do with my hands now that the nail is taken care of so i continue to gnaw on them. Working each nail down to a disgustingly short point. I wish she would just leave. The tear has long since fell and dried on my hoody. My face hiding the turrent of emotion screaming instead of me. Minutes pass, slowly she comes to realize the futility of it all. She rises in acceptance and turns toward the door. My hand wants to jump and grab hers, pulling her into a tight embrace, ended with a gentle kiss. My pride holds it tightly to my knee though. The door closes gently. The gasp breaches my vocal cords in the form of a moan. My face burries itself in my arms. My heart swells well the harsh reality, and shrinks with despair, shattering it like a cold window on a hot day. I choke, no longer a lump but a fireball of pain. I convulse slightly and then gain control. I turn to the mirror....acceptance......it's lines age my face. Time no longer holds the reigns to fate, Love holds each life in its jaws.

Don't thrash, it's teeth gash........