Wednesday, July 16, 2008

My Name Is Bitch

Look at me. I am young and I am free; it doesn’t matter what I do with my face to make it look fairer, it doesn’t matter that I can’t buy a plane ticket when I want to get away – I give the impression. I will talk as if I am on top of the world while you sit here right beside me. The wind blows. Listen. Until you feel you know me.

We’ll go somewhere else. You will want to take me everywhere. Let’s play. The world is a pretty big place but I will talk to you until you feel you are my world. Talk to me. You won’t catch my eyes but you will feel you know me. You will feel like you own me.

I was a mess. I am a freak. But dress me up. Feed me. Show me off. I won’t be the prettiest face they’ve seen. I won’t be the biggest happening they’ve been to. But I could make it happen for you. Buy me.

I’ll mess with your head. I’ll be your poison. I can become your addictive reason when reason could no longer stand upright. I will tell you to fight for me when you are confused. I will tell you I’ll be there. I will tell you so many things whispering softly in your ear until it bleeds, until it becomes too loud to listen, until you’re no longer happy.

Feed on me. It’s unhealthy but you won’t believe it. You’re scared now. Believe it but you won’t do anything about it. There will be nothing else left to believe in… when you know me.

I’ll keep talking until you no longer know me. Then you’ll start questioning yourself.

You don’t know what I do at night when you’re not watching. It doesn’t matter if I go out dancing, or go on dancing in my head. It means the same thing. In both instances, I tell you: you’d rather be somewhere else.

But you’re still here even as you want to go places, want to dance, want to sing, want to scream, want to win, want to own me because suddenly, you’re wanting again with that intensity of purpose that was lost in you some time ago, somehow. You’re here anyway and you can’t stop yourself from drinking me in as if I were your salvation because face it, I move you, I make you feel, I seize your head, I mess your life when in that instance before I came along, there was nothing in you worth messing. I gave you that. Even as you do not know who I am, you know what to call me. You know how I taste like. Eat me.

And when I leave, you will punch the wall until your knuckles fall off. But don’t. Punch yourself. Bleed. You let me in.

And when everything turns red, shout my name.

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