To-day

Ah. The worst part of it. I can’t really think of it right now. But I know there’s definitely a “worst” part. No doubt about that.
Lord.

Alright. So earlier today, then.

Stupidity of mine, I love to just walk in on people, confidently do I sidle up and expect something clever to just burst forth from those lips of mine.
So there I go, I see you, there’s naught else to do but to go for it. Right?

Right. So I go for it. La deeh dah. Creepy. That’s what I must seem. Silently do I walk up next to him, oh look, a look of confusion.
On my face, that is.
What are you doing here? You should be there, I say.
He says, why are you looking over there, I’m not there. I’m not there.

I’m not here. Lord God in heaven, I am slain from day one and still to this day I can’t push that away.

We talk. Useless, random words. Meaningless in their jargon, we try to seem elevated and soulful. We are intelligent, I grin, you smile. It’s easy and effortless, like breathing fresh air. It envelops your senses and makes you feel smart and calm and sly all at the same time. I am clever, but so are you. Ah wait, don’t play coy with me, those eyes say. The corner of the mouth smirks. I know what you want, I know what you’re doing. I’m not having it. And the timidity in my voice says, I want it. Longing and brutality.

Lord God in Heaven.

You’re so awesome. Is that what he said? I can’t be sure anymore, but I think I gave a nice loud and bewildered “why?” You tell me, little girl, is his condescending reply, dripping with whatever it is that gets me high off him. Can’t meet his eyes, that’s the worst part. I thought I was a big one, all talk and walk and strut and jump; not so. Not when I’m face to face with those things, I can barely breathe. Feel thirteen again. Feels stupid. But nice. Nice and oh so fine I want him to be mine.

And then, once again not sure of the how and why, but I remember he puts his hand on my face. Why? No clue. Consolation?

Perhaps. Ah yes, definitely. It’s all games. Role the die, blow on it, maybe you’ll get lucky. One step too close, maybe if I aim over here. I play. I’m ok. I could be better. I could be great. If only there wasn’t that little house-arrest factor that was like a goddamned brick sinking into the deep blue sea waiting to get lost in the sheer enormity of impossibility for me.

And thus, I am doubly slain. No pain no gain. Right?

Not really.