A RANDOM STORY

It seemed like smoking. You are cognisant of its ramifications. Of the poison laced within. Of how it furtively sneaks on your lungs. How everytime you embrace it in your kisser you draw closer to malady. Of the inevitable end; of it, killing you softly, slowly at first and then twisting the dagger at the end. Apparent is it’s malevolence but you can’t refrain from it, its potency insurmountable.

That’s how it felt with her. It was uneqivocal I never stood a miniscule of a chance. But I indulged, a clown in her show, the Russian roulette. I immersed myself into her gaping chasm.

She was this jaggernaut that called and I came running. She had me on a leash and I kissed her ring. I was a pawn she played with whenever she chose to. I was myopic. Whenever I had the chance to be with her I took it with open arms, voraciously, grinning from cheek to cheek. She knew she had me in her back pocket, she wrung my usability.

I tasted poison and got hooked. I was a junkie that incessantly  ran back to her, I’d sell my soul to get a fix, nothing would impede my intent. When she erred I apologised. When she didn’t text back I was a ball of insecurity. When she stayed out late I waited in angst. When she sufficed I was chuffed.

She was a femme fatale, a ticking time bomb I couldn’t escape from briskly enough, not because of my ineptitude but because I chose not to.

If we perished then we had to go tits up together. Fingers intertwined like twirls of tenuous tree branches. Legs locked into each other. The reverberations of our petrified hearts the melancholic sound track to our petering script.

She went off; exploded. An upheaval to the ground beneath our feet. The shards fell on our faces as the rubble we were under rendered us infirm. We watched life ebb from our skin. My face ashen, the futility of the war I had been fighting appending it’s signature to my suicide mission.

We died like Romeo and Juliet, the archetypal beautiful wreckage of an ending, only in this story Juliet didn’t requit squat for her paramour.

I died under a rubble with a wretched heart.

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