We know the truth don’t we? The only person that ever thinks it’s you is you. Only able to run for so long before the lies slow you down like quicksand. Sure, you can hope to be buoyed by the ignorance of others but that’s its own ignorance and just salts the quagmire. What I want, desperately, is to drown or be free. Kill me or be done with petty injury, no good will come from growing spite and harvesting harm. Admit what you are and be at peace. At this point, there’s nothing holding you back but you.
The skin is taut across her cheekbones and her eyes are diluted as though they’d been swirled together and left to settle, the pupil’s ink seeping meekly back into its well. She isn’t really smiling. I ask what’s wrong and she makes a rusty scoff, the sound of a bullet choking in its chamber. ‘Fuck,’ she says. ‘Everything, babe. Nothing’s right if you think on it enough.’ I put my hand on her knee and squeeze. Surely there’s some good, I tell her. She closes her eyes and stops not smiling, almost peaceful. I ask, what can I do?