"Do you love me?" She asked.
With her cracking bottom lip tucked
Between her pearly white teeth
Her nimble fingers twiddled together
In the anxiety of the moment
And her weighted shoulders stiff
In the suffocatingly silent atmosphere
He did not respond.
He did not even look up from his gaze locked with the glossy tile below him.
"Do you love me?" She asked again,
This time with a slight tremble in her tone.
Fear coursed through her veins
And her over exaggerated lipstick drawn mouth
Dropped to the floor in a frown.
Her eyes were like glass, reflecting his chestnut curls
For that was all she could see.
He, again, did not speak.
"Do you love me?" She begged.
Her knees, exposed through her worn down ripped jeans, nearly buckled
Under the weight of his silence
And her forehead now glistened with a fresh sheen of nervous sweat.
Her rib cage was constricting upon her breathless lungs,
All because of him
Nothing. He said, he did, nothing.
"Do you love me?!" She screamed.
"Do you love me? Do you love me?" She whispered over and over again,
Until her throat was salvaging the burning air it could fit
And the mental, physical, and emotion exhaustion was more than evident.
"Do you love me?"
It was a plead, a desperate desire for his answer.
It was drowning in pity and pain.
It was sorrow in physical form.
"Please, oh please, say that you do," she commanded.
Her fingernails were bombarded with scratches
As she attempted to scrape away the already chipping indigo polish,
To pass the heart wrenching silence.
Why wouldn't he answer her?
"Do you love me?" She asked for the final time,
Her voice so low, it could hardly be heard,
But it rang clear and deep in his eardrums
Her aching feet shifted from side to side
In her worn down Chuck Taylors
And the ticks of the clock were heavy in the otherwise
Empty symphony of their surroundings
His gaze did not move
From the puke stained floor
But his cherry chapstick coated lips separated for a millisecond
And dollar store brand cough medicine is what poured out
"No, no I do not"
YOU ARE READING
he/him/you
شِعر[completed] some half assed thoughts i've had about unrequited love and unnecessary hope shattering revelations
