This is my very first attempt at a Dramione fic, AND my first attempt at a poem. So please, be gentle. Still, reviews are GREATLY appreciated! Gentle does not mean dumb it down; I still want opinions. :} All grammar flaws are intentional, I assure you.

Quick warning, Hermione's thoughts are italic, and Draco's are plain text.

*HEY. So, I've been reading my traffic stats. (Yes, I know what those are now.) And this story has gotten over 200 visitors. TWO HUNDRED VISITORS. Not hits, visitors. It's been up for less than two weeks. That's awesome you guys. :) Thank you so much. But I have to point out... only one review. ONLY ONE. (THANKYOUthankyou serverusforever, you're wondrous:) So... yeah. FREAKING REVIEW THIS. Please. I live for reviews. They are my Life. Force. I need them. I crave them. Leave them for me, and I'll write more Hermione/Draco for you. Okay. That's the end of my rambling/pleading rampage.*

DISCLAIMER: I am dis-claiming this. Every last bit of it. The characters are not mine, the idea is not mine... Just the situation. :)


The difference between you and I is
blood.
Yours runs black inside your veins
while mine runs
shining crimson.

Your blood is tainted by your
arrogance
while mine is cleaned
by my determination.

Your eyes are honey
They sweeten my sour view.

Your eyes are mercury
They poison by brain, my thoughts,
trickling down and twisting my understanding
of you.

Your eyes are chocolate
Calling to me as temptation, always
forbidden.

Your eyes are a storm
revealing the conflict you hide.

Your eyes are whiskey
dissolving my inhibitions and changing
my notion.

Your eyes are silver magnets
pulling towards the one I loathed.

Our lips meet harshly
as if attempting to force the dirt
from your mouth
so I don't have to regret listening to
my father
all those years.

Your hair is softer than normal
and I wonder if THIS is what makes
you pure.

You do not taste dirty.
You taste undeniably sweet.

Your body is chiseled from marble
hard and unyielding
and I wonder if THAT is what makes
you pure.

I hate the lies I was once force-fed
and then ate willingly.
They taste like dirt.
Black, black dirt.

Your eyes are metallic
and I can't look away
and I wonder if perhaps THIS is why
you are pure.

Our lips meet softly.


A moment hangs completely
suspended.

I look to you and watch your eyes
widen unto my own as your chest is
slashed.
Your breast heaves
and I
run.

You look at me as I am
torn apart.
It seems silly
all the scorn
you've pushed on me
when right now
my blood is
crimson.

I am distracted and hit
by a spell
bleeding left
right
center.
Do I deserve to lose the blood
I thought was
so much better?

You lied to me.
All those years
you said my blood
would be black.

I hold your hand
our blood curls together and it
doesn't burn like I was told.
I can't even tell ours apart.


Your eyes are stone
realizing your mistake.

Your eyes are mud.