Monday, July 17, 2017

I saw the water, once; my heart burns there, too.

I saw, in her sock drawer, a picture of her fishing.  She had a turtle on the line.  She was laughing in glee.  Bare arms.  Warm weather clothes.  Smell of sweat lurking under the perfume, and a sprig of the eau de baby powder.

How I wanted to die, then.

How I felt harmed, hurt, with my mind bleeding within, the cranial pressure building, my memories fogging away, body parts beginning to convulse!

I said I loved her.

I said I loved her not.

I played with her "back massager" when she wasn't looking.  One of her kids came to the door and I threw the huge pink apparatus in disgust, as if it had been attacking me.

While she showered, I tried on her reading glasses.  "Look, I'm an idiot, now" I said softly.  Then I shuddered with revulsion.

I didn't change underwear or socks all weekend.  For luck.  My lucky "get ass" gear, ye ken?

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