Gone, she was
~~~~~~~~~~
A week later,
on a Sunday afternoon,
she found your blog.
Your friend, who had long black hair and molten red eyes,
she'd usually scold you for purposely burning yourself
or when you'd clip your nails too close to the hilt that it bled,
or when you'd scratch yourself until your skin was broken and open
But it wasn't the same. That day, it wasn't the same.
In the blog she found your videos,
the same ones you had posted online to earn money;
taping yourself doing acts people from around the world had requested,
whether it was spreading your legs in front of the camera
or slicing yourself open
But she didn't understand,
and she yelled at you so loud you thought your eardrums might just burst,
cussed you out,
told you how absolutely stupid you were.
Bad boy! Bad boy! she had screamed,
red in the face,
her breathing shallow.
Infuriated beyond belief, she was
You had cowered in the corner of your room,
gripping yourself tight with your own sharp nails digging the skin of your arms
And she grabbed you by the hair
forced you to stand up
slapped you so hard across the cheek that you lost your balance
She had her fingers laced between the strands of her black hair in frustration.
It hurt, you thought, that hurt...
You sniffed, swallowed, and knelt in front of her, tears in your eyes-
and begged her to hurt you again.
She must have seen the prominent bulge in your pants for she gave out a wail, a howl of disgust-
called you a freak and stormed out of your house.
You never saw her again after that day
Sometimes, you find yourself missing her.
