How Heartbreak Starts

“You don’t have to love every person you date.” He’d said, resting his hands on her hips and pulling her against him. He leaned back against his truck, meeting her wide eyed gaze with steady blue eyes. She searched them, looking for the slightest flicker of sadness or betrayal but found nothing but kindness and sincerity. She broke eye contact with him and looked down, focusing on the dip in his collarbone.

“I know.” she mumbled. She opened her mouth to say something else when she felt his fingers lift her chin and her eyes found sanctuary in his again.

“It’s. Okay.” He said quietly but firmly, leaning in.

In that moment the world slowed as her lips met his. In his kiss she found everything she didn’t know she needed. In his arms she found safety and in his heart she found a soul so surely damned for hell that it had to be her salvation.

In honor of the man in whose soul I found the devil to my demons.  

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Devil of My Winters

“He said ooh baby girl you know we’re gonna be legends…”

This summer went by in a blue of heated evenings, muted stars, and shots of tequila. I barely noticed as the leaves started to turn and the evenings cooled off; too wrapped up in my desperate illusion of a never ending summer…

And then I met him. He was the coldest moon of winter warmed with the scorching sun of summer. He reconciled those three burning months with the freezing of the earth and whispered warm words to me with Jack Frosts’ bite.

I looked at him, felt his cold hands bring beads of sweat to my skin, and fled. I could not survive another warm winter and frozen summer.

Yet something in him called to me; a reminiscence of a flame I once had. Similar, but different in all the ways that mattered. I found myself enchanted with the world of possibilities promised by his sly grin. He stood there, hand patiently extended, Lucifer’s own smile luring me in.

I felt myself take a single step- one that had the potential to launch a journey of a thousand smiles and a million tears- in his direction. Triumph flashed in his eyes as I delicately places my hand in his, and we flew down Hell’s Highway… Leaving nothing but white feathers and flames in our wake.

“…I know you wanna go to heaven but you’re human tonight.”

Midnight Lies

Fate acted like clockwork as my gaze met yours; when late night fun turned to breakfast at four. An effusive (as you called it) smile across my face, our bodies touched in a quick embrace. I pulled back and  you lured me in, promising charm with every devilish grin.
Sparkling conversation lit up the stars, I asked where you live and you replied “not far’. I struggled internally spinning my finest monologue, “good girls don’t do this” “good girls don’t get caught”.
A crisis here and a crisis there, I ran off to unmuddle a companion’s affairs. I turned and asked “will you wait for me?” You turned and said “Come back and see.”
Much to my delight, much to my surprise, my return was met by the stars in your eyes. I saw your horns and stepped back in fear; you extended your hand-
“Coming, my dear?”
What else could I do, but follow you then? When you whisked me off to world’s end? Rather, just nine levels down, under the skies and amongst the clouds.
That night I spent lost in the drunken ether, gasping for breath and burning from your fever. For every touch and every kiss, left me on fire in hell’s purest bliss.
And when the sun arose and pulled me awake, I soon realized our biggest mistake. For thinking what happened in night could last, you’d think I’d have learned from my own past. Well nothing good lasts forever, but this heavenly night in hell I’ll always remember.
So with a smile and dry eyes I bid you adieu, and my search for the angel Lucifer continued.

Hello. 

Hello stranger, it’s been a while. 

I swear I almost forgot,

The color of your eyes. 

Were they always so deep,

Did they always have,

This effect on my heartbeat?

Did your voice always sound, 

As dark as thunder, 

Or an earthquake in the ground? 

Did your touch always spark, 

Such a shock,

That it stopped my heart? 

Hello stranger, how long has it been?

Since I’ve heard your confessions, 

And loved your sins? 

Did your grip always leave,

Dark bruises on my wrists, 

And my voice hoarse from screams?

Was it always your intent,

To rip my wings from my back,

And keep me here till the end? 

Hello stranger, who loves you now? 

Who do you turn on,

When the world beats you down?

I’ll tell you who I turn to, 

the girl in the mirror,

who grew strong as you grew cruel.  

Her eyes are deeper than yours,

And they sparkle with a passion,

That rivals the stars.

Her smile is brighter than the moon,

It’s something I’ve never seen before,

Prettier than I ever knew. 

And her heart is of gold, silver, and sapphire, 

With the color of ruby, 

Lit by the flames of her fire. 

And she’ll never need you again, 

Never have to feel,

Her heart break and bend.  

Goodbye stranger, I wish I could lie, 

And say that seeing you, 

has been a delight.  

But if I were to be honest, which I try,

Leaving you in the past, 

Was what saved my life. 


To the stranger I knew and loved. 

Self Love Affair

Movies watched alone,

Tickets bought for one;

Small drink,

and no popcorn. 

 

Nights with no love to be found

And those with the occasional stranger,

Buys her drinks and makes her rounds, 

Learning names she won’t remember. 


Days out and nights in, 

Joy so strong it must be sin. 

Pain from pleasure and pleasure from pain, 

One from love and the other from gin. 


Adventures and midnight drives, 

With only the radio for noise. 

Sunsets and night skies,

Falling for her own smiles. 


Slowly learning to see, 

The beauty in the mirror, 

the strength in being free,

And the fire within her. 


Meals eaten alone,

Across an empty chair,

Caught up in her very own, 

Self love affair. 

Blue Eyed Stranger

The first thing that I remember from the night I met you was the way you looked at me. It was a gaze that was filled not only with lust, but with shame… And that intrigued me. No one had ever been shameful of lusting after me, in fact it was something that most people seemed to take pride in. So to find a man who found his desire as a source of shame rather than pride piqued my interest.

I remember walking over to my friend and pointing you out, commenting on how incredibly attractive you were. You looked at me, your eyes piercing through my soul, and I felt this magnetic pull towards you.

When my wingman walked up to you and obviously said something about me, you looked at me, smirked, and shook your head. I was insulted at first, and definitively confused. Why would you look at me like that, and then deny my advance? Perhaps I had been too forward, but I tend to have no patience with the silly courtship games that are played by the rest of my generation.

When my wingman persisted, as he was confused as well, you came up with an answer that crushed my hopes for the night.

“I’m taken.”, you’d said. Your firm was tone and decisive, but don’t think I didn’t notice the undercurrent of regret and wistfulness. I also noticed the way your eyes traveled up and down my form, hunger glinting and giving away what was truly in your drunken thoughts.

I took my leave then, as ungracefully as I possibly could have, and exited the tiny, loud garage we were all crammed into. As I breathed in the crisp fall air, I looked around. My heart beat fast in my ears, a side effect of your presence helped along by the overpowering liquor in my drink. I quickly went to find my friends, in need of their support and advice. I had just come off of a relationship with a boy that was as unhealthy for me as he was unfaithful, and I had never been in this position before.

I wanted you. That was the first and foremost thought in my mind. I desired to get to know you and the mind behind those soul piercing eyes, but I was not the type of person to break up any sort of relationship, having been on the opposite end of that equation. It only ever adds up to heartbreak and anger.

I got the advice I needed to hear from a dear friend, and I returned to the thick of the party, confident in my abilities to either avoid you or find another, more eligible bachelor. Lo and behold- the only other person who was even the slightest bit attractive to me seemed to be your friend. I decided to use that fact to my advantage and I sauntered up to both of you. I focused most of my attention on him but the presence I felt most was yours.

The night wore on, drinks were poured, conversation was made, and several highly inappropriate texts were exchanged between us. I could feel the tension every time you walked by me, or every time our eyes met across the crowded room.

We eventually ended up sitting in the main house, continuing a conversation about my artistic sensitivities. You were horribly insensitive and sarcastic, needling me and teasing me for my naive outlook. I, in turn, displayed a surprising amount of verbal wit for someone so intoxicated, and I get the distinct feeling that I impressed you, despite my earlier blunders. I showed you my writing and you read what I had written, and understood what I truly meant. You even commented on the message, expressing sympathy for my heartbreak. I, of course, brushed it off but something in the way you looked at me told me that you knew how deep it really cut.

When the conversation got too intimate, and the intoxication got to a level of judgement-blurring and line-crossing, I decided that enough was enough. Apparently you’d decided that too at the same point, for you rose, extended a hand to me, and helped me to my feet. We exchanged polite, if not wistful, “goodnights”, and I dared to plant a kiss on your cheek.

You thanked me for an eventful night of conversation,

and I cursed you for your self control.

To the stranger who, through firm rejection, taught me that good men still exist.

Under Infinity

Give me some bad advice,

I’ll always ask you over, 

still drunk from last night, 

And last nights lover. 


Glass after glass of wine, 

Candy shots to pass the time, 

Headaches and hangovers, 

Heartache and love under covers. 


Poems and short stories, 

Days spent in front of the mirror, 

Fifths of vodka and forties, 

Dreaming of you and I forever.


Short arguments and blowout fights, 

Long silences and sleepless nights. 

Everything resolved with a kiss, 

That, my dear, is our bliss. 


So what is age but a number?  

You’re an eternity over,

and me?  

Well I’m infinities under. 


AN: Oh good lord I’m writing happy sappy shit again…. Someone send help. On second thought- don’t. 😉