Pretend I Got Nothing to Say
I hate writing About Me's.
But I would like to say I love talking to strangers.
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This is for the shallow.
She is an empty shell with a hole that needs to be filled. Her lips part and she is beautiful in a sad and desperate sort of way that doesn’t mean a damn thing to anyone. You have her tonight to fill the void of the one you loved and lost. Fuck. Suck. Lick.
Do it quick and close your eyes.
Tell yourself that it is alright. Everyone else has…
She is the town whore.
She’s your porn star tonight.
She doesn’t have a name.
This gives her one. She has purpose.
Receive. Contract. Break. Bleed. Recede.
Again.
It isn’t right but it feels good for a moment.
Alive. Burning. Not alone.
Who are you fucking kidding?
She arches her back to know what love is but it is never her own.
She envies the girls they sweat to forget.
The shame comes immediately after you reach the peak of desire.
You are left with yourself and her empty eyes that reflect nothing at all.
For the only love she can cling to is from the death of another. Someone put to dust that has no mouth of which to speak protest, “You never really mattered.”
It is safer that way.
But she knows she never really mattered.
“How does it feel to not know love…”
“I have loved,” She says indignantly, throwing bruised and ripped petals into the river.
“Yes, even if it is a fickle thing…” And then her friend turns to her and says, “But who has ever loved you?”
“That’s fucked up.”
“Yeah?” Sarah laughs, “What does it matter? The only thing kindness has ever brought is a pack of cigarettes, liquor and a night on your back.”
“You’re such a bitch,” She tears the flower, petals, stamen, leaves, stem and all and casts them out…They don’t even flutter down. They drop dead into the stream unaesthetic and lacking empathy to her agitation.
“I am honest,” Sarah says, stretching her arms high above her head and looking past the dock, “I was a bitch when I defended your honor, too. You told me it didn’t matter as long as they were nice to your face.”
“You’re not nice to my face.”
“When I disapprove of your behavior. No, I’m not,” Her voice was cold and harsh. Her eyes darkened, “And you weren’t even worth the hassle in the first place. I don’t know what to make of you…You’re not even a good person.”
Sarah stood up and made to walk past but she stepped in front of her to block her path, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
There was a moment of hesitant spirit as Sarah narrowed her eyes and glanced her over, a disgusted sort of smirk crossed her face as she gently grabbed her hand and turned it over, placing a locket into her palm, “I found it in my sheets,” And her smile was beautiful and cold, “I had defended you,” She laughed, “But everyone else was right. You’re not even worth a fucking breath.”
Sarah walked way and left her alone holding her empty locket.
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I may have lost a lot of people but the ones that mattered stuck by me. However, I choose to still love everyone because I know that hopeless, horrible feeling of being treated with disgust.
I want to really see them and tell them I care because I wanted someone to look at me and see past the bullshit.
To be told, “I am so sorry you’re hurting…” Instead of a constant apology streaming from me.
And what if they need me someday? Just to listen. Just to care.
What if they are alone and hate themselves for even a moment? I can’t bear the thought of anyone encasing themselves in that, choking on some fucked up perception everyone else passively crams down their throat.
I thought that if I didn’t complain and I loved and asked enough that it would positively define my character.
Honesty isn’t the problem; silence is the poison but I can’t speak without the guilt.
Mm…Charming manipulation, deprecate me.
I’m not perfect. I make mistakes.
But I can live with myself now because I won’t let it happen to you. If you need to be told you’re wonderful I will tell you. I will mean it, too.
Because even if I am not worth it to you, you are worth it to me.
I’m not a victim anymore.
