Shots Fired

The door exploded. When she slammed it, detonations riddled his body, shock and anger galloped over his mind both riding the same horse. Molten emotions dripped in the air, a seethe like lava, a floe that clung even as she ran down the long staircase, heels ticking off all the wrongs of his tongue. They ate the apple, but the worm in the fruit ate her. It was forbidden by the birds in the sky. She begged to be liked from the lip of her grave. No one will shoot her for being vulnerable. They will kill him for loving her, for he knew now how a door explodes, how it speaks of the hand that slams it, and the birds of the sky will not forgive her.