Skinny Love

My eyes are open and staring at his bare back. The light from the small window cascading itself upon his skin and I lay away from him.

I look at his body, taking in all of the outlines and marks and then I look down at my own. I am dying. Wasting my breath every day to see nothing but the cold world.

And yet here he is, lying in front of me, breathing softly and making me feel inferior to his deserving.

He cares too much. I will hurt him.

He stirs in his sleep, catching the sounds of the world outside of his window and he mumbles incoherent noises under his breath.

I stand up, letting my bones unsettle back into my skin and I walk up to his small window. The cold night sky is heavy with hope and dreams from the streets stretching as far as the eye can see.

I don’t know he is awake and watching until he stands next to me and speaks lightly, sleep still in his voice, “Sometimes I wonder if we’re even alive.”

I look up and catch his eyes staring straight ahead, he is in some sort of trance and his voice speaks up. “You know, if this is someone else’s dream and we’re just fragments in it.”

I see him in that light, the fading illusions of sadness creeping behind his eyes and the way his veins circulate around his body like streetlights, lighting up who he is.

I grab his hand and place it on my heart. He feels the sudden rush I am feeling and presses his forehead against mine.

My walls are vibrating, echoing with doubts and insecurities but the second I taste his lips on mine I let them falter for this moment.

His hands hold firmly onto my waist, rubbing small circles on my bones that stuck out.

I reach for the button of his pants, sending him the signal of what I want.

He obliges. He never says no to my requests because I know he needs this too. We both need to feel alive.

Soon our clothes are scattered on his floor, leaving us both vulnerable and insecure.

But he has nothing to be insecure about. His body is a wonder to me. Always perfect.

He kisses every part of my body that his lips find, igniting the complications of love inside my body but I let them pass, just to savor this sweet moment.

I feel my hinges loosening and the both of us fell apart at the seams and our insecurities poured out. But we do not push them away, they lay out like fresh wounds and instead of pouring salt we kiss them and bound them with the incubation of love.

It was a soft rhythm between us, letting our emotions do that talking and just breathing it all in.
I pressed my fingers into his back, needing him more than ever and small whimpers escaped my throat.

He whispered sweet nothings into my ear, leaving my skin rosy from the heat between us and the way his words made my pulse race.

There’s something that goes off in my veins as soon we both hit our peaks. It’s like an explosion of reassurance that for that one simple moment, everything is okay.

He collapsed next to me, his hair clinging to his forehead, riddled with sweat and his mouth is parted open to let heavy breaths escape.

He wraps us both in his bed sheets and we imprint the scent of both of us mixed together so that when I am gone he can reach out and breathe in the air that is us.

In the words of Kurt Vonnegut, everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.

-

Walking down the pale marble floors of the mall with Mikayla used to be fun. I used to catch myself laughing at every corner and enjoying the aroma of a crowd. Then the weight came down. A meteor flaming through the sky with the signal of desolation and my hands flew up, my fists clenching tightly, giving away the sign of surrender.

I am trapped in this body that I can’t unfold anymore. A body that is still and awake.

I look around, catching the gazes of everyone staring me down like fire in sand. Mikayla is feeding off of this, a smug grin on her lips and an eyebrow rose. It bothers me how she takes this all in. Her hips sway to some mechanical beat in her head and her body is glowing.

A group of teenage boys pass by and eye her like a piece of fresh meat. They don’t notice me. I shouldn’t feel a sting, but I do.

She looks down at me, raising another eyebrow, “You’ve got a boyfriend Lucy, and don’t stare at other boys.” Her tone is playful but I resent her for it and I look away.

I fix my eyes on the table, trying not to look at the food in front of me. Mikayla chews away, disregarding the effect food has on your body and I wonder she eats and still keeps that body of hers. I feel another sting but this one is harder and the weight lands hard on my shoulders.

A shiver is sent up my spine and I clench my fists, digging my fingernails into my palm. I can’t do this in front of Mikayla.

I don’t think she knows but she should have an idea.

Her eyes light up and she asks, “Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

I shake my head, “No, I’m having dinner later.”

“Lucy, it’s nine.”

“I’m fine,” I mutter and cut my eyes away from her. A deep sigh rumbles through her chest. “That’s not what I asked.”

I feel it. I feel the questions darting back and forth in her head, seeing the warning signs and I hear the click of her tongue.

“Why are you doing this?”

I look up, surprised at how calm her voice is but I don’t let it fool me. “I’m just not hungry right now.”

My voice is meek and shallow, the waves barely loud enough for the both of to hear. But the words are there and she fumbles around with them, figuring out what to say next.

I speak up, before she has the chance to open her mouth. “I’m just going to walk home. Don’t worry about me.”

I hear her cries and protests but I shrug them off and head to the nearest exit.

The spring night is cold and I feel my nose dry out against the wind. My feet are dragging along and my arms are tightly clasped around myself, trying to keep as warm as I possibly can.

My house is no more than six or seven blocks away but I know this walk will do me good. It will drain out everything unwanted resting in the pits of my stomach. It will take the sting away.

I pause for a second and let the cold win brush against my hair. I let it run its invisible fingers through the strands and for a second I feel lighter. I close my eyes and the image of Gerard lights up.

I open up my eyes and shake my head vigorously.

He is pushing against these boundaries I’ve tried so hard to put up. He is smoothing them out with his fingertips and lightly pushing them behind him, letting himself inside my trap.
I want to scream at him and tell him that I’m not the girl you love.

I am the girl you pass by without a second glance.

I am the girl that if given the chance would choose to fade away in the cross fire between staying young and growing up.

I am not worth trying to save.

I am past that.

I’ve given up the hope of turning back and running towards the safety of love.

I am a paper girl with paper thoughts.