i don’t think i’ll ever understand what you were thinking. or if you were thinking at all. did you clear your mind  and just follow the motions, answering yes to everything that was asked of you. like the scars on you skin didn’t exist. or that you had no other choice. 

to say he was eerie would be an understatement. the polaroids he took of obscure scenery in the distance, his trespass on abandoned lots, or the jargon of jokes on death and disability – only solidified his abnormality. what about him ever appealed to you. i still run variables through my mind before setting them aside to continue through the day. 

my stomach churned and the back of my throat burned. my brain ached as if it was fighting off a poisonous infection. never had your words put me in such a state. the uncertain grin with your downward set eyes confirmed you understood my feelings. your hair was still tangled and your voice slightly shaken. 

i couldn’t feel anger. i was filled with too much disgust and disbelief. the realization set in that you were never going to consider my advice. the distance i felt between us grew further. my own breath getting shorter. 


“i’m cool now, right?”

there’s a reason you and i dropped off our respected plains. you collect scars to hide, in hopes they won’t be found. by strangers who won’t ask to see them. who would never care to help you heal. who just want to add to your collection. your misguided treasures of misfortune and misery. 

is it lust that leads you – or have you given up your worth. your value. your soul. 


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