viii.
I bought my first packet of cigarettes today. It feels good.
I went back home and threw away the things that added to the substance of
who I was, like,
photographs, my favourite movies, and my favourite clothes.
I'm going to get miniskirts and G-strings.
viiii.
I met a friend while I wandered down the streets
I used to spend twilight sessions in; he looked at my
cigarette and stared at my miniskirt and asked me why.
I answered "It makes me real."
x.
I had sex with D. He told me he found me an appeal,
and that was a good enough start for me.
After sex, I cried and told him I was using him, and I repeated to him what
A had said.
He kissed my forehead and said "I understand what you're going through."
and took me down another escape.
So I let him explore the planes of my body,
because having him under my skin makes me feel safe;
it was moments like those when I didn't have to care what
he thought of me.
xi.
I don't talk to B anymore, because I realized he wouldn't recognize me
anymore.
xii.
I met E today. He was a nice boy.
He was great sex.
xiii.
I have become the person A had believed me to be,
so why do I still feel unaccomplished?
I tried a double effect, with D and E,
but the sex only hurt me more.
D wished he knew why. He asked me if A was worthy of
what I was putting myself through.
D told me he loved me,
but I could only pay attention to the movements of our bodies,
and I only replied,
"Yes."
xiv.
I stopped today and slapped D
in the middle of the streets, but he merely
hugged me tight and said "I'll stop hurting you."
Then he searched the crowds and his eyes met A's.
I didn't know he was there, too, so I walked away with
tears in my eyes,
a weak projection of
what I had become.
I heard D telling A "This is what you made her."
xv.
I asked D if he ever thought I was a slut.
He said, yes, once, in the middle of our nymphomanic tendencies.
Then he apologized, but I merely shrugged.
I gave A so much of my heart I
felt dead when he wasn't around.
I am back to thinking of A.
I have not made any progress, and all I am stuck with now is
cigarette-smoked vision and torn up skin.
xvi.
B found me today. He looked at me,
and said I hurt him.
I said I couldn't care less.
That was when he took my hand and said
"Not because of what you are now, but because you didn't come to me."
I asked him what he meant by "What you are now" and he said
"Not yourself."
He said, "I would've been there for you."
I had taken my hand out of his, and told him I couldn't allow him to,
because I didn't want him to be just another escape.
He told me he would let himself be that if it could make me feel better.
He asked me if I wanted him.
I looked into his eyes, and all I saw was A, so
I said yes.
xvii.
Nothing's changed,
only the bodies beside mine.
is this... real?!
ReplyDeleteit's so intriguing.
no its not babe chill :)
ReplyDelete