i let someone hurt me last night and not in a good way. not in a physical way, either, although under the right circumstances that might have been a less painful occurrence.
it was little more than a bee-sting from a petulant spring warmed wasp.
“show me your emotions,” said the boy. “i’m not like that,” said the girl. when the girl opened the door a crack, she gave him a glimpse of something he didn’t like. he disappeared with quietly harsh words muttered in his wake.
after catching my breath from that first quick blow, i can raise my head and laugh. will that sweet young thing ever stop to realize that he was creating a mobius strip, an unending cycle? i ripped the paper in half before i could trace my fingers back to the beginning.
i’ll leave little more than a whisper behind in his head.