Showing sad stories for tag "Rotten love"

Candace

This summer

Love wasn't in the air the night you unbuttoned my shirt and kissed my skin. No, love definitely wasn't in the air the night we spend in heat of moment, sweating and tumbling and fumbling on your linens. I can't remember much but I can remember the beginning. The burn of the acid bleeding and gushing past my tongue and down my throat. The noises, and then your silence. The clumsiness and then the awkward kisses. You had a garden of dark brown hair growing from your scalp with dirt eyes. You had a protruding belly button and clown feet. You smelt like my uncle in his coffin. You didn't ask me if you could take my virginity. You just assumed I would give it to you. I always wonder where you put it, if you take good care of it and how it is doing. I always imagine you... [Read More]