Status: One shot.
Black
Fin.
I was always too late. That was my curse, being a minute too late. Maybe her curse was being a minute ahead, I don’t know. All I know if I had been there a minute earlier or she a minute later she would still be here.
*
She drank black coffee and read old books. She drank coffee as black as her heart, oh how she hated the stuff. She would joke about the coffee staining her teeth yellow and how it would finally match her insides. I would laugh but I never really knew what she meant.
She was the kind of girl you read books about, she was something more than the rest of us. She had a crazy mind and a restless heart and her smile… Jeez her smile could light up the whole fucking town.
Oh how I loved her, I loved her a hundred ways for a hundred days. I loved her every goddamn day but that wasn’t enough for an eternal dreamer with a broken heart. I don’t think I was enough, but god did I try to fill whatever was missing in her.
I think from an early age she was meant to kill herself and change the world. She would tell me late at night with the cold air making her nipples hard and a flush on her cheeks from sex, that she was simply wired the wrong way, from birth that she had been wrong.
I never understood but god under the light half naked she looked like a fucking goddess, and instead of asking her what she meant I would kiss her again, I would fuck her instead of listening. I was no better that any of the other men she refused to talk about.
*
I asked her for a hundred days if she was okay, she always said 'you can ask me a hundred times and my answer will always be the same', so secretly I vowed to ask her 101 times.
I never did and I think she was waiting for me to be the one to ask. She died a few days later and I guess she did let me know in her own way she was not even slightly okay.
*
I was always too late. That was my curse, being a minute too late. Maybe her curse was being a minute ahead, I don’t know. All I know if I had been there a minute earlier or she a minute later, she would still be here.
*
She drank black coffee and read old books. She drank coffee as black as her heart, oh how she hated the stuff. She would joke about the coffee staining her teeth yellow and how it would finally match her insides. I would laugh but I never really knew what she meant.
She was the kind of girl you read books about, she was something more than the rest of us. She had a crazy mind and a restless heart and her smile… Jeez her smile could light up the whole fucking town.
Oh how I loved her, I loved her a hundred ways for a hundred days. I loved her every goddamn day but that wasn’t enough for an eternal dreamer with a broken heart. I don’t think I was enough, but god did I try to fill whatever was missing in her.
I think from an early age she was meant to kill herself and change the world. She would tell me late at night with the cold air making her nipples hard and a flush on her cheeks from sex, that she was simply wired the wrong way, from birth that she had been wrong.
I never understood but god under the light half naked she looked like a fucking goddess, and instead of asking her what she meant I would kiss her again, I would fuck her instead of listening. I was no better that any of the other men she refused to talk about.
*
I asked her for a hundred days if she was okay, she always said 'you can ask me a hundred times and my answer will always be the same', so secretly I vowed to ask her 101 times.
I never did and I think she was waiting for me to be the one to ask. She died a few days later and I guess she did let me know in her own way she was not even slightly okay.
*
I was always too late. That was my curse, being a minute too late. Maybe her curse was being a minute ahead, I don’t know. All I know if I had been there a minute earlier or she a minute later, she would still be here.
♠ ♠ ♠
Something my wandering brain spewed out.