In the sunniest of the days,
we sit inside, staring at each other through monitors,
not able to touch, to kiss, and hold each other.
The stench of a familiar feeling arises in me again,
and my stomach sinks.
I watch as your face turns red like the roses,
and your emerald eyes looking pleadingly at the screen,
confused like a lost child.
I remain silent at your questions,
resenting myself for increasing the anger,
hating myself for liking the bittert chaos.
I remain mute, watching you squirm in your seat,
wondering if this will ever stop,
wishing that I didn't like toying with your emotions.
The fire is only increasing,
and I can't help but add the sticks, the leaves, anything to help it grow.
Words meant to be buried come out of my mouth,
and I see your face drooping even more,
yet I don't stop.
I can hear the brutal slashing piercing his ears,
and the heat in my body rises,
as my heart sinks.
This isn't his fault, I even know it.
But I can't help but blame him.
When the fire in my eyes die down, I let the fog escape my eyes,
and I want to sob.
His shoulders are slumped, his face is defeated.
I can feel his sadness seep into my body,
and I am appalled by what I've caused
But I can't help what I'm doing.
I shut him out of my thoughts,
I don't even know what they are anymore.
I cut his face from the screen,
but in my mind, his broken image remains.
Why does this evil feeling still linger?