Ficlets

That Beautiful Mess of You

Papers sprawled on the floor cover the carpet. You scratch your head in confusion. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
“Know about what?” I ask.
“Everything.”
At that I pondered and escaped deeply into my mind. I didn’t know either. But somehow in someway I did know. You start to speak, and it takes me back to reality. I look up at you and see you in a way I’ve never seen you before. It was like slow motion but even better. I couldn’t hear you but the words you say that emerge from your mouth and reflect off your lips, blow me away with a fire that cannot be desired as they are just words alone just like you and I fighting for our lives mentally, physically, gruesomely, and cleanly in a beautiful mess.

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