Aesthetic Disorder

When A Sad Boy Loves An Angry Boy

Natalie Wee

You are in love with a knife fight and his lips taste like gunpowder. His heart is a battlefield demanding attention, his mind is a dismantled tragedy, but his love is like the whole world electric and the sun laid at your feet.

He says: I'll hurt you. And kiss you like someone who hates looking in mirrors. Feral boy loves you with his claws tucked in. Feral boy loves you without teeth, dreaming himself a labyrinth and handing you the sword.

You know how blood tasted on your tongue, but never from a fresh heart. He put it there, palms open, eyes slivered. This is the most precious you have ever been given. This is the most precious you have ever made to feel.

Kiss him so hard your jaw aches. Say: I am not afraid of the marks your hands will leave. Touch me. The bruises from your mouth are the only one I've ever welcomed.


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