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Description
Inevitable delusions. Who would have thought that it would end up like this? Drowning in her own perfection, she stares as the make-up clings tightly to her skin. She refuses to let the tears fall but if they’d happen to, she wouldn’t even feel them. Who cares what poster is on the wall or what color her lampshade is? They’ve no idea how she’d fallen into their lives.

It hurts when they forget your name, she writes upon her arm. The ink traces the obvious outlines of her veins. Her legs are roughly forced underneath her bodice as she curls into a desperation; it doesn’t matter how uncomfortable it is for the pain clouds the emotions.

The room is empty. The rain is so silent that it imitates the gasping of her lungs. What was it like to breathe? She writes upon her shoulder hoping she won’t have to run out of room. The necklace holds her throat but she won’t take it off. To lose myself is to lose everything I hate and everything I love, she writes upon her palm; removing every bracelet, remorsefully removing every memory as well.

She wonders if the moon reflects the glimmer in his eye. Pausing to draw her curtains, she forgets the color. The paint is chipped beside her hand and she cannot help but scrape the fragility. The candles dim. The fragrance of their laughter levitates onto the ceiling and as she shuts her lights, they wither into the panic she’s been dreading. It hurts when they forget your name, she traces with her finger. She wonders if her name was worth it all.

© Sylwia Wielgosz 2003.