that morning was the back of his golden quilted head enveloping my eyes. The floor creaked beneath my bare toes as I slipped back into that room, crossing my fingers that his roommate hadn't seen me leave for the restroom. "I have to go for a bike ride..." he mumbled, his ocean eyes darting from the ground to the door repeatedly. "But I'll drop you downtown so you don't have to Max over the river." "Oh, thank you...". My lips quivered, my wavering voice trailing off, my throat dry, my sense of worth dryer.
The moment the wheels on his 1990's Subaru screeched around the asphault of 1st avenue, my heart sank to my toes, the lump in my throat strangling me as my cheeks flooded onto the pavement below. I've known him for years... I can't believe this is happening. My converse pounded on the concrete, my legs swaying at a tempo almost as fast as my exploding heart.
Black ink streamed onto my sketchbook for hours as I held onto the last bit of calm I had with one hand, the other picking apart the tangles. As the Earth slowly slurped up the Sun and spat out dusk, I yanked at one more strand fraying from the cotton knot suffocating my entire core. My ripped floral duvet smothered my limbs as my cheeks drowned just a bit more, my subconcious beginning to wring out every last bit of trust that flowed through my veins. That was the last thing I saw.
