exquisite corpse

He buried his head in his hands and sobbed. He let all the tears he’s been holding in, out. All the times he said he was “ok”, all the times he turned a sad moment into a joke hoping no one would notice what he was really going through. All the times he was afraid of looking weak, of looking “less of a man.” All the times he wanted to cry, but he didn’t, came out in this moment.  I ran upstairs and got dressed quickly, I refuse to stay in this house with a bunch of liars. I hated my life at this moment I just wanted to run away. When will I ever be able to tell the truth about who I am.

I remember the time when I first knew that I wasn’t like anyone else. I didn’t quite know why I had this feeling, it was almost as if I was a mysterious creature caught in a complex world. Weird you know? No one noticed me, but I noticed everyone and everything around me, I wanted to be as discreet as possible. I wanted to observe everything and everyone around me. That’s the only way to truly get to know someone. Ask them questions, be there for them, fart together and make fun of each other but then there is also the sad way of getting to know someone…. Or their true colors I should say. When things go wrong. Betrayal can be a bitch but Revenge is Betrayal’s pimp. And a pimp slap is standing by sooner than later. Standing by, hand at the ready, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. I wondered if I would do it opened hand, or back handed like mama used to do.

I decided to grab the rolling pin and end it like that, it’s finally over. This long fucking road is down as I prove my authority. I swing and find the face. Haha bitch.  The person falls to floor and desperately crawls to escape.

“There is no escaping so you might as well keep your face to the floor!”

“Please don’t hurt me!”

“You hurt me first! An eye for an eye!”

“Ah, yes, but you hurt me last, and the last bite is the worst, so, my dear, with this final twist of the knife…you breathe no more.”

“Um, yeah…that’s real dramatic. But you’re not holding a knife.”

“It’s a metaphor.” He pulls out a gun and shoots her in the forehead. Little angels circle around her head and now he’s afraid of what’s going to happen next. He doesn’t understand what’s going on but he knew something big was about to happen. The funny part is that he wasn’t sure if he was afraid or excited. The thrill of the un known was always exciting to him.