Mirror Image, Part 3,

7

I open my eyes.

Light poured in.

I shut them tight.

They still hurt.

I felt his arm around my waist.

His head pressed into my neck.

Our naked bodies fitted together like that of the most sexual puzzle.

A razor’s edge.

My mother could walk in at any second.

My father as well.

I start.

But stop.

Let them find me.

My mind says.

Mom still thinks I’m a virgin.

Confrontation would be the only outcome should I let him stay.

I roll over in his arms.

His eyes open.

“Morning?”

I nod.

He sighs.

“Have to leave?”

I nod.

He kisses me.

I kiss him back.

He climbs out of bed.

His body warmth is gone.

I’m freezing.

He quickly dresses.

I watch him as he does so.

Stay in bed. My mind says.

I take a breath and jump out of bed.

I quickly run up to him and give him one last long kiss before he left.

He smiles.

He’s gone.

I jump back into bed.

Curling up into a ball, hiding under a mountain of blankets.

I can still smell him.

I shut my eyes.

But I don’t see his face.

I see hers.

And I want to look in a mirror again. 

8

I wish for wings.

I wish to fly away.

Everything’s a tidal wave.

Threatening to come crashing down atop me and drown me in its massive flood.

We don’t use the title boyfriend and girlfriend.

We don’t use the term ‘dating’.

We just have feelings.

Strong feelings.

We want to be together.

We want to hold each other.

We want to fuck.

In a way we are ‘taken’.

But on the other hand, we aren’t.

It’s been this way forever.

Probably will stay that way forevermore.

But after what has happened.

To me.

To everything.

I want him.

I need him.

I love him.

9

Dreams and nightmares tend to blend within my mind.

Eating away at my sanity.

Leaving me lost and insane within a maelstrom of my own machinations.

Is it day?

Is it Night?

Or is it something else?

Memories clash with fantasies.

Emotions bubbling dangerously beneath the surface of my pale skin.

I was lost.

I was found.

I was everything in between.

Was what happened fate?

Did I deserve to suffer?

I think yes.

They say no.

The contrasting arguments collide with me at every turn.

Everything I think or thought of.

Not true.

They all say it’s a lie.

That it’s not true and I must stop thinking this way.

But I believe it true.

By god do I believe it.

It’s all within the eye of the beholder.

Isn’t it?

But yet again.

Even that question is met with a plethora of contrasting yes and no.

Is there such thing as a true correct answer?

I say no.

They say yes.

Ironic.