Sicko

by Amo Jones

You’re handing humanity a weapon to use against you if all you expect is perfection.

I bite my lip and grin. If she wasn’t my foster sister, I’d have that parked on my shit for at least two business days.

Royce is a nightmare wrapped in a dream, but Wicked is the Devil’s pet.

It’s my soul exploding from beneath my skin and not having anywhere for the shrapnel to escape to. It’s everything that should kill you but doesn’t, instead it lingers within your veins, spreading poison.

Royce Kane is not for one girl, he’s for every girl. He’s your mom’s secret fantasy and your father’s insecurity.

Heaven won’t take me, and Hell won’t welcome my demons back.

You can’t separate fate, no matter how hard you fuck it.

It’s toxic, but I’d drown in his poison.

“Because tomorrow’s not guaranteed?” I joke, my eyelids heavy. “Every single day that I’m breathing means your days are guaranteed.

A well-made lie will continue to burn the tip of your tongue well after you’ve been fed truth.