Their throat is an open grave; they use their tongues to deceive. The venom of asps is under their lips.
She remembered that from church, something she'd only attended once or twice. It seemed to make sense now.
Lies. Every word he spoke, they were lies, the filthy snake venom they had been referring to.
"It was a mistake,
It won't happen again!
I never wanted to hurt you.
I'm sorry!
I love you."
The tongue is trained to deceive. She won't fall for it, not again. The bed was still warm, and the room reeked of sex. She can't fall for it.
"Who was she?" She asks. There's no response. "Who the fuck was she?!"
For once, he's totally silent. He's already lost. The throat sure is an open grave, one he'd dug for himself.
The door slams, footsteps trailing away.
Tears well in her eyes. Outside is cold, and dark, and it reeks of cigarettes- her cigarettes. It's pressed to her lips, her own dose of poison. At least it's healthier than him.
YOU ARE READING
The Untitled Azura Project
Short StoryHow long does it take for a picked flower to die? Azura Fleur is a young lady from Grand Rapids with a history of abusive loved ones and a knack for finding the wrong coping mechanisms. Without a decent role model, how will she ever learn clean up h...
