Tw: implications of cannibalism
It's twenty two fifty five, I'm staring at the minutes tick by.
I've longed for this moment since every moment that's ever been. I watched the clock, chiffonading my brain with every tick, tossing it in flames with every tock.
And then you're just... here.
Movie night, I tell you, patting the couch besides me. You said you bought a six pack, it made me smile so big.
I tell you about my passion for cooking, it's an art, don't you agree? It's more than that, it's a ritual.
I tell you how I don't believe in God, religion's just humanity rejecting accountability but your eyes tell me otherwise. Affixed at the pride spilling out of mine. I appreciate the worship, let's take things slow.
I tell you about my father, a deranged childhood and scars I don't talk about. You see me? This is third base. You're a good listener, love.
I tell you the movie's kinda shit. You aren't like how I expected you to be. It's a bit dry, you know I liked that other girl better. But don't go, I'm kinda alone right now.
I don't enjoy the after taste, the way you fell apart with a single touch, stuck in my teeth where the tongue can't reach.
But hey, I'm a nice guy. I didn't toss you away, that's not my thing. I honor you, even though you did not. Honestly? You didn't deserve it. You weren't worthy yet. Neither was I starving. You were a savory meal.
I'm looking at the sunrise, the minutes ticking by. I've longed for you since I knew of longing. I wash my hands, pink swirling at the drain.
I watch you leave, wishing you stayed a little longer.
