Thursday, December 15, 2011

Happyland Express


I find myself looking inside her medicine cabinet. I do this kind of thing. you meet online, she invites you over and do you really know what you're getting yourself into?  and what if - what if by chance, this doesn't stop at just sex? what if she turns out to be the kind of girl you want to bring home for Christmas. 

Prozac, Abilify, Valium, Xanax,  Vicodin. You get the idea. Now, you think you know her a little better: She's crazy? depressed. the girl...has problems. what's that thing about crazy girls fucking good?
but there is that slim chance you might not  leave with your life. (or worse you might have to hear the entire story of hers)   So what?  she wants some fun, kick an old habit by discovering a new one. depression. insanity. me.
 and  I wonder about my own. the power of attraction. Before this, what i knew of her was gathered from the tiny icon photo  of her floating in space. I think  in the right light and if i squint, she even looks remotely like it. 
 
She probably wonders whats taking me so long. I take the cap off the bottle of Vicodin. I pop one in my mouth. this will help the tooth ache i feel coming on. When i get excited my teeth hurt.  it feels like cotton candy inside my head.  I am hard. I want to hurry up and get this over with. She had me come over for one thing. lets be clear on that 
I turn the tap , cup my hand under the water and wash down the shame.  She's cute enough. desperate enough and i want to get off before the Vicodin kicks in. i want the release and  the numbness of pleasure and nothingness

Now Its like i know this secret about her, she kisses me with intense needy desire and i am so turned on. I somehow  feel superior because i don't need drugs or  to talk with someone about my pathetic problems. I'm not weak. I slip inside her. no condom. nothing between us. sickness. desire. i notice the scars along her arm. like train rails. perfectly spaced apart. i am riding this train. I am the conductor. I am starting to slip into the velvet. im not weak. im not broken. she tells me it's okay.  she wants it harder. she wants my hand around her throat. Her words breathless and convincing. I am a kid on Christmas. she is sinking into my skin. what does anyone know of each other? Secrets told and untold. 

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