Every time you complain about the way you look while staring into the bathroom mirror, I am pricking your finger with a sharp piece of metal from a diabetes test kit, and using your blood as mouthwash to dye teeth red. The act will go unnoticed, I think. You brush your hair from side to side. You tell me you look like shit. You tell me that I look really good tonight with nonplussed eyes glowing blue, focused on an incoming text.
Bullshit.
I think about pushing my hand through your skull while
you’re sleeping to pull out your brain because it is the only subject I want to
understand.
Bullshit.
Take a picture of yourself, post it on facebook, and send
it to every contact in your phone—I
don’t want to be included because I figured this puzzle out a week ago on a
walk in the woods, alone. The next time you say, “I love you,” I will slide my
cell phone into the slot of a mailbox made out of pine trees, sever your tongue,
and turn it into a necklace using a lighter, a bent paperclip, and strand of
dental floss. Pretty creative, huh?
Bullshit.
I am a mixture of sad and pissed off at the same time
like a domesticated duck neutered with its wings clipped.
Bullshit.
When you talk, I’m paying attention. I’m not thinking about
where I can snort the ocs in my pocket. Or about going on a ride up the mountain
to smoke a bowl. Or about having a conversation with a voice inside of my head
about the proper scale used for weighing out the positives and negatives of our
friendship. Or about how greasy your face would look through an oven door. Or
about an exit wound sprouting out of the skin and bone located above my right
temple.
Bullshit.
In three years, I will kill you with a knife sharpened on
the duration of our silence. I will embed it in the padded spine of your recliner.
I will push you into the recliner with force until the silver slips through the hymen
surrounding your heart. You will start to bleed. And I will have a surplus of
mouthwash, which means I will have perfect teeth for the rest of my life,
motherfucker.
I dare you to call bullshit on that. Fucking dare you.
