Crack | Prose

We were kissing

lips interlocked with lips

breath mingling with breath

but I didn’t feel a thing.

It was like someone else was kissing him

and I was a mere bystander

watching from afar

like a shadow.

I felt his skin brush against mine

his hands on my waist, in my hair, in my shirt

but my heart didn’t register a thing.

Until a few months back, I’d kill for a kiss like this

until a few months back

I cared.


we kissed like it was a ritual.

A ritual before we fell asleep while watching television

glad that another day was over

another day of pretense

another day of wondering

‘who was going to crack first?’

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