The Apocalypse

Her voice promised me an apocalypse.

Quiet at first,

She’d hide behind a blush

Speaking whispered words;

A tale of the worlds end.

 

When she became upset

I’d wrap her delicate hands

Around my waist

And swallow the threats

That burned from her mouth.

 

She began to mumble

In her sleep.

Broken words of death

Unafraid, I pulled her closer

And kissed her freckled neck.

 

Her sickness took over

And no longer could I control it.

She’d brought upon an apocalypse

But only to herself                           

And I could not save her from the flames.

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