As you sit with her, hand in hand, waiting to go back to
ourthe room of a hotel that rings with your sister’s vows, will you show her what you showed me? I can only guess, when my understanding of you ended with the knowledge that the face you turn to the seeing is not the same felt by the blind. And so I wonder, does she see you? Or is your shape the same as the one you take in this world, a shadow, an imitation, a fake?
Are you warmed by the skeletons you keep in your bed? Your laptop humming, the silent pictures attending to your needs. What will it be tonight? I’d wonder, whenever we’d be close in bed.
BOLTEDONTITSREALGIRLS FACEBOOK FRIENDS IN TIGHT DRESSES BIMBOFETISH. I can almost hear you in the darkness you left behind, those sounds of your right hand, wrapped tight – that feeling of you pushing me away, begging mebutnot to speak the dirty things you’d page through, (re)creating me as a tether between your fantasies and reality. You’d wind me tight until the two were flush and I was gone. (I could’ve been anyone, as long as I said yes.)
Did you make people wonder, where is the line? I know you let that question haunt me. Was it harmless to fantasize in the way that you did, women subtracted from the category people, disassembled into breasts and ass and lips? My heart was swollen, inflamed; they
dodid not see the damage you left in your wake, your fantasies bringing vile words to life: get implants and lip injections; dress sluttier; wear heavy makeup; your arms look fat with that muscle; you can make this up with sex.
I know you let them tell you that you can do
/are doing better. And I’ll wonder when I’m displaced in your darkness, has the truth ever made it past your lips? I have an addiction. I ruined a girl for my own fun. I took away the family she knew, her home, her sanity, so I could cum more easily, so I could sleep at night. IMSORRY She deserved better, or at least more.