frosteecat

Sometimes I ache at the memory of you...
your pale skin and flashing eyes,
the occasional cruel laugh.
Your body, caressed in shadows and
the small of your back in a patch of
moonlight.

How you'd eat a peach and
not care about the juice running down your
chin...
the terror your parents gifted you.
Climbing ice walls and riding motorcycles--
even that isn't enough
to cool the burning in your your blood.

I'll wager you're dead by now,
my sweetest mistake.