A Medley Of Messages

L A N G U I D L I P S

Soft and pink,

like a rose blooming in the spring.

Full of life.

Full of so much potential.

Lovingly swaying with the wind.

Love,

a curse for the easily swooned.

A trap of pure disappointment.

A contract for your inevitable heartbreak.

Forcing me to fall.

To fall hard and fully,

like your lips.

Though your lips aren't hard,

they are soft and... well,

full.

Those lips,

taunting me.

Torturing me.

A single kiss from those lips.

A single kiss would be enough.

Enough to capture me.

Enough to make me fall harder,

than I already have.

Enough to make me want the inevitable heartbreak that would be soon to come.

And surely enough,

it would come.

I should've expected the heartbreak.

Your lips...

Those lips, which were so lazy

so damn languid,

so unwavering.

They forced me to waver.

Forced me to fall.

Forced me into the trap of love,

which you of course did not care for.

You did not plan on falling.

You did not plan on wavering.

Your intentions were to make me do all of that,

which you did.

But,

now I ask myself,

was it worth it?

Was that insignificant amount of affection worth the longing?

Worth the heartbreak?

We're those languid lips really worth it?