Upmann

Breathtaking beauty is all I can afford to lose when I look in the mirror and see cat eyes glowering back at me, and I don't mind it really, because it's kind of alluring and nice to see something so sharp and refined looking back at me. Bee's swarm around the bushes in our front yard, so I rested among them and let the sun kiss its way from the small of my back to my neck while you looked at me from across the yard and smiled secrets to me from your white, perfect teeth (and I've never felt more at home with you in my front yard). I wasn't so sure about anything until I felt it radiate all over me with the first warm weather we've had all year, and I could finally drive with my windows down and be warm. My mind is cloudy with the pressures of sleepless nights and dreams that shudder down my spine. I tore all of the skin off of my thumb because when I little I thought that was normal and no one ever told me not to. They never told me not to climb my dresser and to not get smashed by the drawers and not let the metal lining split my foot so I could get fifteen stitches and some hydrocodone and morphine which started the whole cycle of doing and loving and listening to her try and speak correctly and not being able to, so all I could do was cry and tuck her hair behind her ear while I kissed her cheek on my tiptoes and lifted her chin up while pulling away and turning my back on her forever. He looked at me like I made him hungry so I closed my eyes. She looked at me like I made her want to vomit so I closed my eyes. I don't respond when he asks me questions or tries to tell me things like, 'I'll disappear if I don't eat.' because all I can think about when I hear or see them is that fucking dream and how he tried to hold me and she tried to kiss my cheek and all I wanted to do was bite my tongue and hit them so hard. What was I saying to you?

'I wore dresses for weeks so you would just notice me.' and then you cried and told me you did, and I woke up and couldn't look at my face in the mirror, much less try to smile. Endless pain stains my face, and I'm not sure how to make it apparent that I am happy and I feel nice most everyday. Besides my stomach hurting and yearning for my body to be healthy, I never hurt unless I scrape my foot on a wall or burn my finger cooking.

He had a mental illness, and somehow I watched him give it to himself by shaking soo hard until something stopped working in his brain and he went cross-eyed and I woke up with my body outlined in sweat on my sheets and I cried so hard when I saw him with his grocery cart on the loop by my school which he sits on and shakes back and forth just like I used to when I cried and bit my knee caps until they bled because I was afraid of them hearing me and sending me back to that god awful place. Yes, I laugh and think that the human body is the most wonderful we have when we're caught by surprise and when we love without the faintest idea of what can happen, much like how pure our love is with the first man or woman we find and it comes soaring out. Is that why we never forget our first love, or the ones that come after and bring things out of us we never knew? I never knew I was addicted to the sight of the sun, or the way your mouth curves into that cocky smile when I say things that fluff your ego just a little bit. I never ever knew I could love the figure of a woman soo much until you came into my life, or that I love the way your hand feels against the small of my back while you whisper commands for me to move because I'm blocking the way. I didn't know I love the way you bite or the way you turn me on in such a big way, one that I was never used to. I love that you carried me four blocks when I was in the weakest state of my entire life and that you watched me while I slept to make sure I had someone to wake up to and smile at me when the headache finally receded into light throbbing. Even if you did fall asleep in the chair across the room and look like the most beautiful thing I've ever woken up to see, save the sun and the flowers and the honey bee's. I love that you held my hand; that you tried to tell me what was wrong, and that you were honest.

Still yet, nothing moves around us, and I'm not sure where we were even going in the first place. But my fingers hurt and there are butterflies (or maybe they're even crows- who knows, cause' I certainly don't?) and razor sharp avocados slicing through my stomach.