[ Big Girls Don't Cry ]

by terry

[ Charcoal on A-4 Bond ]

Big Girls Don't Cry

She sits silently weeping,

Trying her best to hide the sobs .

Because she knows.

He's told her often enough.

He gets angry at the sound.

Not at her he always says, never that,

But at the sound.

Again, she wonders how he can be so blind.

Not understand, not know,

That the tears are her heart spilling

From the well stone of her soul.

Flowing now because of him again.

When she first saw him, a year ago today,

Her heart skipped a beat.

Then sped ahead with an intensity that scared her.

Badly.

Mainly because she had never had such an immediate longing

For any man before.

At least until him.

He was so…real, so…alive, …. and just so damn sexy.

His lips alone were enough to curl her toes

At the mere thought of pushing up and nibbling one of them seductively…

But she has resisted that temptation

For an entire forty-eight hours

Before she gave in to the act in an embarrassing moment between classes.

Sure enough, they had proceeded to connect

At about the same speed as the Concorde

In full flight.

But she also learned quickly that he had a dark side.

A temper that could turn on a dime.

And a hand that struck like lightning,

When he was truly upset.

But then, she had considered that a small price to pay

For the dizzying heights of love he offered.

With a single heated touch combined with a smoldering look

He melted her core in an instant, every damn time.

And now this…

How could she have been so stupid?

So much a little girl as to ever let this happen.

She knew.

She knew it was her responsibility.

After all, he had told her up front,

"I don't wear those damn things. I want the real thing.

Take care of it yourself, okay baby?"

And the thing is,

She thought she had been careful.

But obviously not careful enough.

And now this…

But ohhhh God, how his question had cut.

Like he had taken a razor to her heart

And sliced until it was all one big mess.

Which of course it was now.

And all she could think of through the tears,

Were his echoing words…

"Whose is it anyway? Sure not mine."

©2000 terry wayne leonard. All rights reserved.
                    Used by permission only.