Sta.sh
i am shaking with broken bones and trembling fingers.
i’m digging myself into holes until i’m ten feet from the surface and gasping for air. and you’re standing at the top with half-crescent smiles and gilded lies falling from between your teeth. you’re breathing in carbon dioxide while you sip on gasoline, saying the things that are worst for us are sometimes exactly what we need. i don’t know what you mean but i’d like to imagine if i could touch you, you’d go up in smoke.
this is when you call me painfully beautiful and kick down a rock, wait until you hear it hit the bottom before you giggle like a child and say that it had taken ten seconds for the rock to land and that was nine more than i would last if you pushed me off the edge of reason. i can’t bear to look at you, i can’t bear to tell you i fell a long time ago and that you were being generous because it took much less time for me to splatter on the rocks below.
this is when i remember that i want to remind you that i am painful but certainly not beautiful, and that saying i am is akin to sticking needles in my arm and calling me a porcelain doll. it is a pretty lie but a cheap one that is falling apart at the seams. it can’t even be lodged in your mouth because vinegar-lips dissolve it at first touch. your lies are usually much better, your lies are made of platinum and steel, never rusting but wrapping around my lungs until i’m breathing them in and believing.
i want to tell you about the lie, but i can’t. i want to, but i don’t. instead i tuck the words behind my lip like tobacco and wait for them to infect it like a disease, wait for them to grow into an angry cancer that tears me apart at the base and scatters my remains around like a game.
and you just whistle and bite your lip, ask me how much longer i’ll be because the dawn is coming and there is nothing more you dislike than a sunny burial. it seems wrong you say, like eating cold soup and wearing socks with sandals.
just one more minute, i promise, just one more minute.
in the time it will take you to feed me another lie i’ll be gone.
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I was stunned when no one wanted to help you (because i'm sure there are tons of people who would love to give you a hand just to say they were there for you when someone else wasn't).
I do like what you said here: "nothing more you dislike than a sunny burial. it seems wrong you say, like eating cold soup and wearing socks with sandals."
I would love to be able to lie like that.
Like steel or platinum.
With such a firm grip on what I was going to say.
(what I want to say is beautiful job
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