A Man Of His Word

"In this ENTIRE CITY, you choose to keep fucking with my emotions... What is your problem?!" My vocal chords scream with pain, tingleing with hoarseness. He sighs, his breaths hitching, eyes twitching, picking the dirt from under his nail beds. He winces as a long piece of dirtied skin peels from underneath, causing blood to swell. Words fly out from my stomach, the impact of me stopping them causes my stomach to lurch with nausea. Please stop, you're bleeding. Let's go back inside and forget this even happened. That we're standing on the front porch of your two story condo howling our problems to the moon like animals. But they don't get to breathe in the fresh air just outside the thin layer of saliva between my lips. But die back into the acidic pit of my stomach, where all my other problems go to die. A sonorous breath sighs into my ear. He steps towards me, reaching out as if i'm his lifeline. Pulling away slowly, I walk out into the streets of New York. Hoping to run into anyone but him again.