Imagine thinking you have any idea what’s best for me and actually saying those words out loud like some kind of arrogant prick. If I stare long enough into the mirror I can see every single asymmetry exacerbated to the point of dramatic grotesque distortion. It gets so disturbing I have to turn away before it hurts so bad my chest burns, my veins shake. We are a collection of demons attempting to overcome ourselves. I do my makeup and not my hair. I pretend none of it matters but my palms are sweaty and there is a metallic taste on my tongue I cannot explain. Almost all of me wants to get out of here. Almost. All.
He flirts with the girl online in the hopes of heaven knows what. The goal is conquest, nothing more and nothing less. Guys like that ought to be ignored but she’s so lonely she can’t help herself. Plus, there’s something about him that seems almost sad which makes her feel sorry for him. Such a sweet pity. She wonders what his insecurities might be and how maybe she could fix him. That’s the real trouble, you see, that we confuse rescue with love. We think servicing a man will save not only him but us, too, and vice versa. It’s only when we are tangled up nice and deep that things begin to fall apart. But nobody wants to hear about that at the beginning. We don’t want to dig we just want to fuck and worry about what’s really there later. And true to form, sooner or later, we will.
Should write more love poetry but the heart’s not in it. Too much over-dramatization of love and not enough skin in the game. I’d like to be angry just for today, do you think you can give me that. I’m not really asking. I have had to learn to take what I need in secret in order to manage this balancing act of woman versus wallflower. Blending in while standing out. The moon hangs highest over my bed inside the room where I lie naked in the dark, suspended. A storied past glows bright beneath the surface of what may come. His face appears before me and I wish it wouldn’t. I squeeze my eyes tight and squirm beneath the sheets. I take the little white pill from the bedside table and swallow it all the way down to the black-birded morning. It spreads and spreads inside me like wings with dark feathers, beating back the wind.