I swallow the last drop and letting it slither down my throat full of burning desire, where the bright green eyes taunting me to drink even more.
I let myself decide. My shaking hands bringing the bowl to the edge of my lips, where I delicately sip through my clenched teeth.
It was strong, warm and finally ice cold.
I blur my vision with a dreaming desire and let myself lay amongst the broken bombshells of rubble.
I close my eyelids, with my featherlike body rest against the metal beams, hair sprawled dipping itself in the puddle drops of blood.
I smile faintly, silently gasping for my final breath, before I go to sleep.
By (c) Zona Heera.
Somehow, somewhere, I wish I could do be this person. I’m drying internally, and I hate the IB. Enuff’ said.