If I'm Not Out Burning
"I'm lighting matches off of you and burning bridges just for you."
I'm laying here staring at the ceiling with a half filled bottle of vodka lying by my side. I have two hours until I have to see you and I'm trying to think of something to say. Something that will make you forgive me. I have a broken leg and fractured neck and all I can think about is your pretty blue eyes. I take a swig out of the bottle as the cold liquid burns that back of my throat. But, I don't even mind. It makes me forget. And I'd do anything to forget about you.
I pull on my leather jacket over this horrible red shirt, and any other day I would've complained about it. But this isn't any other day. This is the first time I would see you after the accident. Bullfrog starts his car and starts trying to make small talk with me. I answer back with "yeahs and uh huhs," because I don't want him to figure out that I've been drinking. We arrive and he helps me out the car, even though I refuse. And that's when I see you, with your curls perfectly intact, talking with Alli. And to tell you the truth, I didn't think that it would hurt this bad.
I hobble up the steps and through the door way, trying to avoid you and all your memories. As much as I want to, I can't even pretend like this was your fault. I want to see your face. I want to remember why it hurts. I open my locker and start to dump some of the contents into it.
My books fall loosely from my hands and splatter against the floor. You come towards me and drop to the ground as you try to gather them up. "Here." You say as you hand the books to me. "Thanks." I say back because there's nothing else to say. This moment that I've been waiting for is right in front of me and all I can say is "thank you." "No problem." You cry in almost a whisper. And just when you're about to walk off, I stop you. "So, how have you been?" I question carefully. "Good." You say uneasily and I can tell that this hurts you as much as it hurts me. "And you?" "Good." I lie.
You nod you're head and you turn to go, just as you stumble on one last book. I catch your arm roughly and for one split second, your skin rubs against mine and it burns so good. You pull your arm away and as you bend down to pick up the last book, your eyes encounter mine. And I don't know what got into me. What made my lips speak those words. "You have pretty eyes." I blurt out. You hand me the book as you walk away. And then you turn around one last time, as you smile your sad, broken smile and I would've sworn someone lit my body on fire. Because sweetheart, as much as you make me feel like hell, you're my closest thing to heaven.
Hey Guys! Possible one shot. Unless you want more! Please review and tell me what you think! :)