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Your beautiful mouth was moving like a caterpillar. I reached out and tried to catch it.

Lucy Christopher

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Lucy Christopher
Age: 54
Author
Writer
WAL
Catch
Mouth
Mouths
Tried
Moving
Beautiful
Caterpillar
Like
Caterpillars
Reached

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This be OK?' I asked, innocently. 'You want me to have no skin left?' You rolled your eyes. Actually, don't answer that one.
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You looked at me, your eyes huge. You we're like a dog then, waiting for me to throw you a bone . . . waiting for something I could never give you.
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Those blue, blue eyes, icy blue, looking back at me as if I could warm them up. They’re pretty powerful, you know, those eyes, pretty beautiful, too.
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I thought you wanted to catch a camel, you tried again. No. I want to. Well, you go then. You laughed. I want your beautiful face where I can see it
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Had you been lying all along? Mum gently stroked my hair. I whispered into her shoulder. “I can’t go back. Not yet. I can’t leave.” And she held my head tight to her chest and wrapped her arms around me. “You don’t have to,” she said, rocking me. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, not anymore.” And I cried.
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I didn’t look back, but I knew you were still watching. It probably sounds weird, but I could just feel it. The hairs on my neck bristled when you blinked.
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The people we care for aren't always the one we should
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Everyone wanted answers I wasn't ready to give.
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You nodded towards the cup. Want more? I shook my head. What about the car? Didn't find it. You were heading back towards me when I found you. Towards . . . ? You nodded. So I reckoned the car had probably got stuck or died somehow, and you were just coming home. Home? Yeah. Your mouth twitched. Back to me.
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There is no need to put your heart in a bottle, then you will die. - Ty from Stolen
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You won't be able to hurt me, or touch me.
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How would she find her herd? How would she find you?
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I chased money, pretended to be someone else to get it. It got easier the longer I did it... but that's the trap, see? When the deadness gets easier, you know you're sinking deeper, becoming dead yourself.
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There were tiny stars behind my eyelids, a whole galaxy of tiny, spinning stars.
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I didn’t want the person standing there, beside the bed, to have the same face I’d found so attractive at the airport. But you were there all right: the blue eyes, blondish hair, and tiny scar. Only you didn’t look beautiful this time. Just evil.
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I remember that feeling of skin. It's strange to remember touch more than thought. But my fingers still tingle with it.
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The deep blue of your eyes had secrets. I wanted them.
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And it's hard to hate someone once you understand them.
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I remember the lights turning into blurs of blazing fire. I remember the air-conditioning chilling my arms. The smell of coffee smudging into the smell of eucalyptus.
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