by Lul Seay

Created on: February 01, 2007   Last Updated: May 14, 2007

My Molting Skin

My hair has begun to grow twisted, more apt to knot than before you, it seems to tumble with a vengeance, chaotic and energized. It feels different though, the air around here. The waves come and go faster, the tired wanting less frequent, your systematic ambush of my dreams less consistent. Still, I find myself breathless with your wax clown smile plastered against my eyes. Having met you ruptured my arrogant sense of safety. I see you fake your way through me, the smoke itching my eyes while noticing that your lips are a little chapped. Your phone calls have no purpose but to stir deep rooted confusion through which you might wrap your fine new sugar coat of superiority around me. You've grown different, icicle fingers and bedroom eyes, and I wonder if I miss you at all or if the churning in my stomach is because I can't feel you missing me. You ask me questions laced with a tone of rigid disbelief and it's causing me to hate every song that plays in our background. I wish I was better at make believe; but as I am, as it is I'll continue on, pretending you mean something when you really don't and lying to myself because you really do. Listening to your arrogance and your sad slow underestimation of me I remember how your borrowed lines were never difficult to decipher. As I watch you sleep; it occurs to me you're not mine and maybe this time i really don't want you to be, I think I'll always miss regretting you.

Learn more about this author, Lul Seay.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.