My hand had cramped up, so I was just taking a break from coloring and holding my hand against the warm cup of tea, letting the warmth soothe my aching knuckles.
"Would you read me one now?" Misa asked, holding her cup of tea.
"Um. Okay. Was there one you wanted to hear?" I asked, opening the notebook.
"When A Boy Tells You He Loves You." Misa smiled. "I skimmed it a little. Light hasn't told me he loves me yet, but I know he does." She beamed.
"You and Light are together?" I asked and she nodded happily as Light made a face behind her. Guess that explains that then.
"Then I really don't think this is the poem for you, Misa..." I tried.
"But I want to hear it!" She whined, and I sighed.
"Fine," I said, took a sip of tea, and straightened my back, starting to read aloud to her.
"When a boy tells you he loves you
It'll be the first time you hear this
It is late and he isn't even there to tell you this in person
But instead from a car ride home from a bar in Chicago
He is there on business
And of course, you will smile
Because he sounds like he means it
Because you believe him
Because a boy has never handed those words to you
Like crushed blackberries in the palms of his hands
Firm, young, full
Waiting to taste sweet with you,
His arms, creeping vines begging to touch the sun,
And your face saying; here,
Take everything I have ever touched
To be closer to you
His breath waiting to be folded
Into a love note passed in between
The nape of your neck and his front teeth
He will remember the time you told him
You felt safe in his mouth
And he will never grow hungry...
Just distant
When a boy tells you he loves you
You will hear music
The voice of your past lovers
Dancing up your throat
Your stomach, in after-hours cabaret,
Still waiting on the last call
That was when you learned that when a boy says "I love you"
He means I am getting ready to be inconsistent with you now
This boy will tell you that he loves you
Not long after he had you waiting
For two hours in front of a cocktail lounge
Patience is something you are working on
But no, not for him
When he asks you to tell him
That you love him back,
You will be in a car
In the parking lot of a late-night diner
You will watch the words fall into your lap
Like a spilled glass of white wine
You will remember the day
Your courier pigeon heart got lost
In the wind because that was a
Message it did not know
How or where to carry
And one by one the boys have
Fallen as silently as the birds do
So eloquently they used to speak
Until I asked the questions
That broke them into ghosts
That bled me into a corpse
With so many questions of my own
For the soil
But their tongues do not know simple
The things I should be hearing,
The things that will make us
Living men in this time of
Insatiable yet dying lovers
When a boy tells you he loves you
Only to become silent
Like a folded sheet of tissue paper
Not wanting you to decrease him into the truth
Do not crack your face
Into the fullest crescent moon
Of the tapered bottom
Of a blackened sky
He never meant a single word of any of it
He is just a boy, remember?
He is just another silly, sad boy,
Remember?"
I closed the notebook and looked at Misa, who had parted lips and tears dotting her eyes.
"Maybe it's better that he doesn't tell you he loves you," I whispered and Misa just shut her eyes, then wiped the corners with her fingers quickly.
"Misa?" I asked worriedly.
"It's okay. I know he doesn't really love me. He lets me pretend though, and I'm fine with that." She smiled, and I could only give a nervous one in response.
What kinda fucked up relationship did these two Kiras even have?
YOU ARE READING
Nietzsche (L Lawliet)
FanfictionI'd like to say our story started when I was handed the Death Note by the golden, bejeweled Death God, but that's not the true beginning of my story if I'm being honest. No, my story started years in advance, before this murder book found its way to...
