Aaron Vialpando Poet Prose

The Breath of the Dragon-Fire

II.	Fire
Walking with you each day was a blessing as not many people can say that they were building sweetheart moments. Enjoying our walks and talks every day was something that I would always cherish until it became obvious at the end of the year. We would eat together constantly and would be so close that we were thought of as a couple. Well, that possibility ended when I asked you to the prom and you stated that your mom and you had spoken and said that you could not go as it was only for upper classmen. How little did your mom know that upperclassmen could ask anyone to the prom. You claimed that you know and that you told your mom that I could take anyone. Were you too good for me as you wasted my time for the whole year? Is it possible that you were starting to be a character that would try to have me for yourself and only for when you wanted me? Waiting for you and even thinking about in the early days of the Wolf Pack was not on my mind as I saw other women who would make a better choice when compared to you. All you wanted was to gain association points of being around an upperclassman. Well, the fire started to smolder that day of your rejection. Each time you were invited to an event you never came.  Martin Luther and your Protestant rubbish as you were a child in your mind and still are a child of your mind, yet you are younger than me by four years. Being a fool that once sought her treasure through the unfamiliar waters of other men has led me to speak words of fire. The whiskey you came to drink with a fool in Illinois is a popsicle. Calling wine fermented grape juice is more insulting. When you had the chance for my love you denied it for your own gain. You have claimed that you are not pure and that you only do the deed out of recreation. You spoke of your cycle as if we were lovers. When the last person you were with passed into the void you claimed that you were sad as they were the only one who treated you like a girlfriend. With all my scars I do not see value in you as you were one of the many that wounded me. Wounded me in years to come as you would not be there. Your stories are the fantasies in your life. Love to me is no longer worth anything. It is only wasted on the undeserving and on those that lie to others. My tears are of fire and evaporate before they hit the ground. I do not love you!

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