luciebreathes
Lust. I don't know if that's what you'd call this. In fact, I'm sure it's not. At least, not on my side. You lusted after me that night, came over after hours to "watch a movie". But that's not what happened. You tried to kiss me. And maybe it seems like nothing to you, because you've probably kissed lots of girls, and more than that even. Prettier girls with softer lips and eyes that told stories. But mine must tell stories too, they must. And I said, I like you but I don't know you and you can't kiss someone if you don't know them. It all comes down to that I guess, and maybe I can't let it go because I regret saying no. But at the same time I know that I would have regretted saying yes, that things would probably have escalated into something I wasn't ready for. I probably wasn't ready for that even. I want to talk to you so badly, because sometimes I think you're the male version of me, -ish. But I'm still so scared of fucking things up that I can't, can't speak true words. Why is it so easy to write all of this out, for an audience that I'll never know, but I can't even tell you that I think I might be able to love you?
Your arms wound around me and it was the first time that had ever happened. for once, I felt loved, needed, cared for. But then the things swiftly moved from maybe in like to something more? I thought you liked me, but I was naive. Why do I still think of this? Why?
Tiled floors and sudsy buckets filled with sudsy soap and filthy rags. I clean your floors, day after day, on my hands and knees. That's where you like a woman, isn't it? Down on her knees for whatever task you may deign. But my knees have been rubbed raw, bleeding torn flesh barely covers the bones. Can't you see? Can't you see what you've done to me? And you told me you'd always love me. You lied.
Moles dot my skin up and down my arms, little brown planets. What if on each of my moles, there really was a little universe. Or what if my moles made up constellations, macrocosm and microcosm? The macrocosm is the universe, the microcosm is us. Wouldn't that be interesting, to know that all the constellations of the sky were the same as the constellations of my skin, the ones that I'd let you explore? You could know all of me, you could have it all. But is that too easy?
Moles burrow down into the ground. Mr. Mole went into the ground, deeper and deeper and deeper. He couldn't burrow fast enough, was going as fast as his little mole arms would allow him to. Oh dear, he thought. I'll never make it on time. That darned rabbit will make it first and he'll find Alice and he'll win and Oh drat!
falling faster swift and white crunch crunch sucking marrow swiftly through open teeth slurping past the blood and brokenness where do we go from here? did that mean anything, anything at all....bones on bones and bones in bones grow into me I want someone to grow into me but how do we do that is it okay? no, it's not okay, that's what I've learned. angles and paleness and bleached out by summer suns on sandy beaches finding pieces of people who lived once upon a time who loved who laughed who took care of one another. bones that hold us up without them we'd just be bags of skin carcasses holding miscellaneous organs that we wouldn't even know what to do with. we still don't know, don't know anything really so why do we try? because it's what we do future's forward past is passed all we have is the ever changing present. you told me to relax, that it would all be okay. then the next day you sent me that message, you confused my sad little heart. but it's okay and I forgive you and I hope we can still be friends. you shouldn't have come on to me like that, but I shouldn't have been so naive. they told me I looked good and I didn't believe them, but now I know that I did look good, maybe too good. what if I had drank one cup more of that scorching liquid, what if I was just a little bit more tipsy, a little bit less myself? would I have given it away? would I have gone from never-been-kissed to kissed then touched then touching then who knows what else? I don't know and I don't want to find out. we were lucky, we were so lucky. there are still lines, still lines that we cannot cross. i forgive you, but next time I know not to be so careless, even this time I'm proud of myself though, I really am.