YOLO4Sho
It comes swiftly some say
Sweeping you off of your feet and turning you around until you're dizzy and confused
It dies a slow death in little careless grievances
Soul deep he knew that
If he was going to leave
It'd have to be tonight
And she couldn't be by his side
So he sat there on the couch
In and out, zig zag. 60 miles per hour and no helmet. Her heart was pounding and the wind was screaming in her ear. The light turned yellow and slowing down felt like quitting. She stepped on the gas and held her breath. Never saw the Honda careening towards her from the side.
The bars are cold but the breath on the back of his neck is warm, and too close. He didn't deserve this, but who ever gets what they deserve. No one comes when he screams out, but his cellmate seems to enjoy the screaming.
It was a nice house. Large bay windows, a spacious layout, and even a pool. She stared at the pool often. Even though he never locked the doors, taking a dive seemed like the only way out.
The soft pull of silk around her wrists was almost cruel in it's caress. Something in her broke, and she twisted, kicked, and spit to deter him.
"You know, I can't do this right now," she murmured. Her body screamed in protest, especially when his hand began to leave its resting place on her breast. But two steps back, the dizziness of lust began to fade, and she knew it was the right decision.
The sun was oppressively cruel and the air was pregnant with a thunderstorm. No one was allowed to retreat inside to cool off, not unless they were cooking. So they played Horseshoes and Spades to distract them from their slow death of tradition and a performance of 'fun'.
Sand in her hair, sand in bikini top, and she could feel tiny grains of annoyance slipping into her bikini bottoms. The lifeguard slipping her tongue was hot, but not enough to distract her from the thought that sex on the beach was terribly overrated.
The paper called them infidels, and that's when he knew it would never be over. "Rebels," he spat. "They come here, to our home, with their bombs, tanks, and guns. Shoot our children dead in the street. And when we fight back, we're rebelling?" He laughed bitterly.
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