Green Light

by Jescie Hall

The one who awakened me to a heaven I’d never known could exist, only to force me into the cages of my own nightmarish hell. The catalyst to my downfall.

I’m done trying to find a small thread of that disgusting emotion that took control of my life, imprisoning me like a hostage to her venom. Drowning me in her affection like the most beautiful, unassuming toxin.

the red light flips to green, giving the opportunity for a new set of pretenders to pull up and convince themselves they’re not only happy, but honorable.

Permanence is an idea that doesn’t exist when you’re used to a life of dishevelment.

Vicious little thing.

But the thrill of doing something so taboo has the pit of my stomach hungering for more.

The only tail I’m looking for is a rat’s.

My body aches for his. I crave his toxicities inside of me like a primordial need I can no longer live without.

“I’m gonna start calling you Sharp Shootin’ Tex,” Wheeter jokes. “She shot at his feet and made him crip walk across the yard.

😂😂😂

“Are we to hide our past simply because it isn’t pretty? Should we not wear our scars as badges of honor, proudly flaunting them in the faces of those who’ve led a life lacking real pain? Real grit?”

Every scar of his past needs rewriting. I’m cementing myself in his reality, so the next time he questions my loyalty or love, he can look down and know that I’m here, in this life, with him.

“For opening my eyes to the realization of conditional love,”

his brand of love—the erratic, violent and possessive kind

“For ensuring my doom and making me fall for the monster I created.”

“Whatever fractures of a heart I have left are yours, Montana,”

“But you better get used to the hurt, sweetheart.”

no matter how we got here; the tainted history between us, the deceptions, the pain, and the healing—we fought to be here, and we refuse to let go.