&a bit of prose
where we are, right now
It's very easy, the way you do it. You just take a nail, scrape my skin and look
at me with those big, dark eyes. Questioning me. Do you want more? Can I take
more? You don't even bother to wait for me to make up my mind; I feel the
needle sinking into my skin. And you leave it there, that dirty, horrible needle
that stings so much.
I want to look at you with clear vision, but you've kept my vision blurred by
tears for so long I don't even recognize simple shapes anymore. I rely on my
touch, I grab a gloved hand and pull you down on top of me. The needle sinks
even deeper into me.
Beautiful girl. A kiss. Two pairs of dry, cracked lips meet, a faint warmth
stolen from me. I can feel you shivering, where have you been tonight? You used
to be so smart, intelligent. You used to show me the way. Without much
consideration for my pain you pull out the needle and don't even try to stop the
blood-flow. I close my eyes but still hold your hand in mine. Or is it just
your glove? I don't know too much anymore.
There was so much. And of course you bring up the past again, you want to return
to that. When we had dreams, hopes, letters to write, poems to memorize for
coffee house nights, energy drinks to gulp down for exams, paintings to finish;
when we had more than ourselves. Do you remember it all? Of course, and I wish
I could forget. I feel bliss kick in if I shut my eyes really tight. I hear
you hiss, that tiny little hiss you make when you push the needle into a
vein. You're quick, because you never liked needles.
I want to go back. Don't you? Is it why you cry? Because you want to go back? I
cry because I know this is all too real, this bottom that we've hit has left us
with nothing; not even ourselves. How can you even think of going back?
You lie down beside me, touch my tousled hair and bury your nose in it. I
remember when you smelled of lavender by lunch, grass in the afternoon, coffee
and cigarette smoke in the night and ecstasia in the morning.
Shut up. Let this rush carry me away. You made me addicted, you owe me my life.
Don't you dare die before me.
(back.)