I don’t like to let on how much of a mess I am.
“Now you can’t get enough.” This isn’t what you want to hear. But it is the truth you won’t admit to yourself. You breathe in sharply. Don’t push. Alright, alright, I’ll open the door. The keys dangle helplessly in the lock, halfway there. I just have to push and turn them. You want me rush things? “Such impatience! My, my…”
Your grip tightens. “Don’t be so stiff, darling. It’s not the first time, you know”. You push us through. Opened door. Dark hallway. “You won’t start punching and kicking, I hope.” Ready to jolt, your limbs twitch like a compressed spring.
“It’s time to tell me what you really think, don’t you agree?” Not only because the gun in your hand. Not because its muzzle cools my temple. Not because your eyes burn and dig deep into my chest, where my heart beats.
It is time to know where I stand.
Locking my door, loosen my tie. Your fast leather-gloved hands know where to start. Unbuttoning my shirt. The muzzle of that gun under my chin. In the darkness, I hear your heavy breathing. At least you enjoy yourself.
“I just try to be somebody – not just anybody – to you.”, I won’t stay silent. “Somebody important…” That is my plan. Naive. Worth a try.
Your dry short laughter sounds more bitter than I expected. Still no words for me?
And now you can’t get enough. Am I somebody to you? With any meaning? Am I part of your life? Am I your nemesis, or a soothing soulmate?
“Sigh. Wanna smoke?” It’s nearly rhetorical. Forgot, you quit. Shaking your pretty head for an answer.
I need one right now. I light a cigarette, slowly, carefully. So you won’t be tempted to pull that trigger. I want you to see me. My face. I won’t scare you. I won’t run. I won’t put up a fight. I mean no harm, not to you. Specially not to you. Just breathing, and thinking. I wonder why you came here today. What is it that you need? A good fuck? Sincerity? An embrace? Soothing after a tough day? Trying to figure out, what you want me to say. Trying to figure out, what I need to say, to reach you, to get a reaction.
“You can’t get enough, can you? You greedy little bastard. Is it confusing? That you need me now, like I needed you?”
To make you love me, that was my plan. If failing, to make you hate me. Brilliant, isn’t it? To put it simple, it’s clinging. But elegant clinging. Encountering you. Here. My place. Keeping myself in your head. It is such a wonderful day.
“Say something! Don’t just stand there trembling!” The gun in your hand. You can’t get enough. Are you crying?
What do you need to hear? I’ll shake it your way. Metal under my fingertips moving. Slowly pushing it away. No more effort to aim at my vital spots? Are you giving up? Sobbing and shaking. Where does this come from? Is there more for me?
“It’s ok“ shushing and comforting. “Your a big pupp and I love you” – nicely and easily played…