Your Mother Says That You Are a Good Boy, Really.

"When did it all go wrong? When did it all go so wrong?"

I tear the stitches on my wrists, opening the cuts.
And as I whisper, crying and trying not to remember you,
not to feel like dying,
my breathing becomes shallow, desperate,
and I can feel as my every part needs you.

It's not that kind of need a normal people have, though.
I remember that one moment when you told me you needed me.
I was dating your brother back then, wasn't I?
He was buying us a dinner and you, his older brother,
was fucking his girlfriend in a toilet cabin, whispering you needed her.

My need for you is more like a need for drugs.
No, honey, I'm not saying that I'm addicted to you,
but we've known each other for a really long time.
You surely remember my heavy metal phase,
and I remember your good-boy times.

It's just kind of sad, that one day you're calling me you best friend,
and now you hardly look at me when we meet.
I know I am not a good girl, and I'm sure you know it too.
Because what other type of a person wouldn't kill herself
after everything I did.

"When did this all became so hard? So fucking hard?"

Vodka, whiskey, gin, wine, beer, tequila, absint, does it really matter?
Marihuana, cocain, heroin, lsd, extasy, crystal meth - it's all the same.
Boys, girls, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters.
Scars, bruises, flaws, wounds.
We did it all together.

And it's all coming back to me, all those feelings.
How you were the only one who stayed with me.
Until we die, you said. Until we die, I'm whispering.
Remember when we promised we will never fall in love?
That we will never be so pathetic?

We were not good, we were everything but good.
That boy who told my dad about my drugs, because he cared about me so much,
you fucked his sister and I recorded it, is that right?
I've heard he mentaly broke down after his mother left them.
Can't say I regret it, though.

And then you said you needed me, despite everything you knew about me.
Or maybe right because of it.
I still feel your lips rubbing against my ear, whispering, as I was crying your name.
I feel your fingers tracing my abdomen, my breasts, my throat.
'I need you, Jay, I need you. Please, I know it's not right, but I need you.'

"My fault, it's all my fault. Yes, it's my faut, please, it's my fault."

We were wrong, you know? Then, and we are wrong now again.
We did it quickly, with want, urge, in rush, - and I don't know if you planned it or not.
Then one night we didn't play any games, we were just us.
And you got me drunk, you danced with me under the stars we couldn't see.
You kissed me, for the first time and it felt desperate.

We promised we would never fall in love. We said we would never be so pathetic.
That we would never cry for another human being.
We said that we are happy. That we don't care about our families. That they don't care.
We promised we would never lie to each other, because you and me, that is forever.
And I am sorry, I am so sorry I didn't realise that you are such a great liar.

"You know, I broke that promise," I say to my daddy as he comes in. I look up, tears streaming down my face, lips trembling. He doesn't hug me. He never does.
"What promise?" He asks instead.
"That I wouldn't cry when he leaves."