"Where would one lie, if not upon thy pillow, upon thy bed, sweet sacrament to all things weak and iridescent, and yet may one man, to another ask, upon whose bed had another spent a night?" Like wildfire, my lover's lips spread across the plains of his teeth, and yet, left me like a child on the eve of Christmas, awake and turning, trying to will time to bend for his own sick sake. My lips, oh my lips! I beckoned them to respond, and yet they would not. For all love, why now must my shyness silence me so? I spent the night, my love! In my own bed, on my mattress, under the covers, grasping the one thing I have to remind me of you! I spent the hours, staring at the walls, sleeplessly dreaming of what we could have if only I were to speak! I spent the minutes, in my own mind, tracing your lips, wondering what it would be like to taste your burning flame. And the seconds- I spent them-as always-and forever- wanting nothing more than you…

Yet…

I may not speak. All I can mutter is weakly, "Fuck off Axel" So Contrary! Soooo….Ironic! Not 'off'! 'ME'! Yes, me! I wish only for this, and yet I say it not so! I let you go, on your way, to others, as I stand here, a slave to the cold perils of society.

If only, for one night, should I have your warmth, then in hell eternal would I be- evermore content. Here, in this hall of books, I crave your sardonic looks. You may wander away from the chained prisoner, and yet one day you will not, for I will be able to look into your eyes and give you something………long overdue…

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X I SMOKE I X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Life sucks and then you die. Typical bumper sticker on a typical fancy-ass convertible owned by some typical jock that in all ways is typically better than yours truly. Me, lonely making my way into the dismal school parking lot of Maverick high; creeping up like a senile old woman in my puke-green 1998 Cadillac. Me, showing up to his first day of public school…his senior year…in a tight v-neck (at least black) sweater and glasses. Me, the imbecile who can't even get his door open.

And…

The door screams, the oh-so-loveable sound of metal kissing metal ripping apart the inner workings of my soul. It's at one of these many moments you just wish Zeus would split your body in two with a well-aimed thunderbolt. You want to die-here and now. Slowly I beckon my eyes to open- just to face the scene I feared: a hideous slash on the vibrant red paint of the fancy-ass convertible. Shit.

Come on. Eyes…Look UP. Please, You'll be so swollen later you might as well do it now. Look now…

They obey….

September, a gloomy day- depressing- but...he…..

The sun is bright- but he…..

Flames are hot….but he…..

There's a man; laughing…at me…He's doubled over, clutching his stomach into his pale hands, as if he can't get enough. Enough of what? Some drug? Sweeter than heroin? No....

On either side of him there's another more sedated man glaring at me with ice blue eyes- blonde and brunette. But it's the red head I'm watching.

He….looks at me, his emerald eyes smiling. His face, pale as the moon, beams an ill-deserved smile at me, and two small tear drop-like black lines under his eyes contorted with the motion. The wind picks up violently, as in response to his malevolence, but his bright flamed spikes of hair do not budge- they are cemented like the asphalt itself. Unlike the other two blondes next to him, who are wearing normal tees, he's wearing a full-length gothic trench and combat boots. From his lips (his sweet lips) hangs a lit cigarette.

And here he stands- holding my own unworthy gaze- holding my life in his hands. It is almost as if I do not break his gaze now, it will forever keep enraptured and trapped in his iron will. Still, I cannot look away.

"Chill out Roxy" The man whispers to the one on my left- (his right) his voice pouring out like sweet honey into my innocent ears. Patting the frustrated blonde head beside him and keeping my gaze, he easily maneuvers in a graceful flip over the convertible, landing neatly in the center of a triangle formed by the slashed red door, the crappy inside of my door, and me. Taking his precious time he clasps his cigarette between two slender ringed fingers and takes in a deep breath of smoke. The butt of the cigarette glows brightly- third only to the sun and his eyes. With even more deliberate slowness his tall frame bends to make his face level with mine, (still helplessly in the car) his piercing eyes not more than an inch away. It is here he exhales the breath, and the noxious fumes dance around me like succubus.

It burns…My first instinct is to gasp. Not a good idea. My lungs fill with smoke, like an indirect kiss. I try to exhale, but alas, cannot. I cannot breathe at all. Something is suffocating me. In delirium I try to see what this weapon against me is, but my glasses are condensated with breath and smoke. I feel as if I am dying, and I close my eyes, watching an inevitable powerpoint of my pathetic life on the back of my eyelids. I feel the carbonic acid and nicotine entering my blood stream, however superficial. I search for something- anything- oh please something.

My fingertips race about, looking for the obtrusion and in their frenzy, the touch something soft. Skin? Yes skin. My brain is shutting down and yet I follow the skin, tracing it, trying to figure out what I am touching. I can't think. This is too much. Then with a sudden shock, my tongue sends a signal… the taste of cinnamon gum, hiding under all that smoke. Something soft and wet over my lips. More lips? Not surely..

He was kissing me…..

My first kiss…Like this? I compared it to dying! And not only that, he was holding my nose so I couldn't even breathe. Clever. And to think that that feeling was supposed to be arisen from arousal alone. I reopen my eyes to see that the fog has cleared and on the other side of the glass shined the two neon lights belonging to the casino that had just stolen my life savings. This fiery youth, determined to kill me mercilessly with his flames.

He now backs away, laughing hysterically… He finds pleasure in this? The other two look slightly annoyed and yet say nothing. The red- head silently takes another drag of his cigarette and finally breaks eye contact. As if I was under a spell, my legs are suddenly urged to move- all my body suddenly has different cravings. My face flushes, my legs run, my eyes stream tears, my hands mindlessly grab my bag, but oh no.

My heart is on a different side altogether.

I race across the asphalt, dropping my glasses along the way, but I don't care anymore, the red bricks of my new school are blurs in a mix of tears and impaired vision. I collapse behind a wall, my sight turning azure as my bangs fall over my eyes. This unfamiliar pavement feels like home- cloud nine- compared to my own car seat. I almost drift to sleep but somewhere the bell rings and brings back with its own harsh form of reality that this day has not even started. I pick up my school ID off the ground…(When did that fall out?) Even with my bad vision I can see my name. "Z-E-X-I-O-N" Yes, Zexion, who had his first kiss…A wall of smoke that, to his immense pleasure has cleared………………….for now…