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Black Hole Eyes
his injuries were bewitching.
the way the Violet bruise spread across his eye,
the way he wiped the blood off his
cheekbone with the sleeve of his jacket.
there's nothing more attractive to me than
a strong, broken boy, and that's the truth.
the way he went about his conversations,
the way he strode forward...
it was enough to make me feel as if
i was cured of any and all diseases.
when his calloused fingers slid across
my arm and down my hand, it felt like
I was in the presence of god himself.
the night he left out my bedroom window,
the sun had been hiding behind the purple clouds
just like how my heart had been running
further and further away from my brain.
the first time he yelled at me,
shaking with fury, the sobs took control
of my body the same way
the ocean takes control of the sand.
and the next day
it was as if nothing had happened at all.
we kept blooming,
like two flowers from the same bouquet,
until the rabbit that is life would come
and nibble on us until there was nothing left.
up and down,
up and down we went.
going from love to hate
the same way life turns to death
and turns to life which turns back
to death all over again.
and then she came along.
I don't blame him for falling in love with her.
anyone with a heart would.
she was beautiful,
a goddess in her own right.
and I guess he thought
he could be her Hades.
he shattered my heart and
crunched on the pieces with his shoe
the day he told me he was
leaving whatever it was that we had.
we were never officially "dating,"
he never told me,
but I knew it was because of her.
now he's at Lakeview,
having to get drunk and sneak out
of a rehabilitation center
instead of his house.
now it's Saturday and I'm stuck at home,
trying not to think of how
I loved the boy with black holes for eyes.