by Elina

I should really..

This is getting gross. I should really brush my teeth. Iím starting to smell seriously funky.


Itís been a day and a half, and I can still taste him. Not as strong as at first, of course. Because then it filled my mouth with bitter-salty flavor, made every breath in and out taste like him. Made me feel used. Owned. Perfect. To finally have him in my mouth was...God. Amazing.

I hardly ate last night, I was so afraid of washing away his taste. I wish I that rush could coat my throat forever. I didnít even smoke - okay, well, not much. But that was okay because the Marlboros only made the taste better - more like him - after it had faded a little.

And when I woke up this morning it was still there under the morning breath, but it was farther back in my throat, harder to taste than to remember. I barely rinsed my mouth out. Didnít want to chase it even farther away.

Now...fuck, a day and a half. Of cigarettes, and food, and sleep. Definitely getting nasty in there. But I can still taste this one little patch, right at the back of my mouth, up on the roof. When I curl my tongue just right, I can stroke it. I do that a lot. He even caught me doing it during our little talk tonight.

But Iíve got to taste it, got to save it. Because tonight he told me no more, told me we couldnít do it again. So this might be all Iíll ever get of him. Iíve got to make it last.

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