because he’s no angel

he gazes longingly into her Kleenex-ed eyes,

with the kind of vague stare he gives to the stars

(when they spit out her crushed dreams and bro-

ken fantasies, dressed in the words “you and me”)

and reminds her of the forgotten memories she hid

precariously in that little black box – the one where

she stashed his “I love you”s (sealed with a kiss) –

tucked away in a corner of her heart with its toxic

key down her throat; he failed to hear her faded screams

and all he gave (could give) were misplaced

kisses on her tainted skin, and they never managed

to reach the throbbing pain in her rotting heart that ate

her up, day by day, until he flew away with those clip-

on-clip-off plastic wings and treasured lies

all ready to be unwrapped by another her

A/N: this is really unlike anything I’ve ever written so I really hope you guys enjoy it! (: