Kid

by Jescie Hall

I think I just met the female version of myself. This is what I’d look like as a chick. I’m hot as fuck. I’m into me.

If it isn’t clear already, I gravitate towards toxicities like a moth to a flame.

“You can’t save a person who doesn’t want to be saved,” she whispers through her smile.

“It means you don’t have anyone waiting for you,” she says, her lips turned down in disappointment as her eyes finding mine again. “You deserve to have someone waiting for you.”

“I want to fuck you,” I whisper against her neck, trailing my mouth up to her ear, the softness against my lips feeling like heaven. “I want to paint this fucking room with your screams.”

Today I want to drown in her. Sink down beneath her surface and fucking drown in everything that she is. I want her in my lungs, in my veins, in my soul. I need her to end me in all the ways imaginable so I can live in her dark, impenetrable hell.

“I love you, Kai,” she says breathlessly. “It hurts, and I’m scared, but I’m in deep, terrifying love with you.”

“I’m ready to break for you,” she whispers, still gripping my hand between hers. “But are you willing to crack for me?” “Shatter,” I reply, pressing myself against her again, my hips pinning her to the van, my eyes cast down on hers as my hands hold her broken little face, making sure she knows the truth in the deepest part of her. “I’ll shatter myself into a million pieces just to meet your broken.”