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Writer's pictureKathia Marie

Explosions

I looked back.


And when I did you stood with that devilish grin just within reach.

I balled my fist and charged toward the kitchen with a demonic screech.

My furious knuckles raced to collide with your unsuspecting cheek,

Remembering the fresh bruise coloring my bicep, “You’re done with me?!”


Several hands saved your pretty face before hell could be conceived.

Trauma settled in as strangers held me back, birthing my unholy scream.


“Fuck you, Gray!” I kicked at the quiet air below my floundering feet,

And continued to rage at your sarcastic gaze, resisting my inevitable defeat.

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