Saturday, August 29, 2009

what you want is a cigarette and a thespian



You're eating less and leaving out the scale more. At least you're not throwing up, as was the boy I met recently.

I've known you forever, but I don't know you at all. Your entire life I have been here; we have an unbreakable bond.

No, I did not take one of your cigarettes. I spent the entire day thinking about it. Yesterday, too. But our mother is already in enough shock. Let me at least wait until I'm back to school and have decided that I can't deal with the stress unless I breathe in carbon monoxide. Let me at least buy it flavored under the name of "Cloves." Let me at least do that so I can hate myself for turning into my oldest, my first love. He'd not recognize me these days, but were I lost in a stampeding crowd, he'd pick me out, and he'd see himself in my haunted eyes.