Glass (Crank 2)

world, he would be dead.

I’m crying now, crying because

I’m high. Crying because he

cares, or at least pretends to.

Crying because it fucking

feels good to cry. Trey takes

me solidly into his arms, tells

me, No shame in crying. No

shame in hating. Go ahead, hate

him. He deserves that and more.

Then he kisses me again.

Tender, this time. Soft.

Unexpectedly compassionate.

I kiss him back. Tearful. Needy.

Filled with questions. Hungry.

Finally, he pulls away. I’ll take

you back to your car now. And

I’ll wait for our second date.

As long as it’s tomorrow.

Not a Wink

Of sleep tonight.

I know that without

trying. Even if I wasn’t

totally wired out of my tree,

thinking about Trey would

keep my mental wheels

turning. Churning.

I managed to

choke down dinner,

a major accomplishment,