Confessions of a padded mind-part two

March 1995…..today I took a boys virginity

I remember catching butterflies as a child, chasing after them in my dance costumes mimicking there carefree movements, fooling them into believing I was safe in there company until I caught one. Grabbing the frail body in-between my tiny fingers making sure I didn’t damage the wings, I then squeezed them, my teeth clenched until they stopped twitching and died. I would then lay down on the grass with my broken beauties in my palm, lightly touching there breathless bodies, asking God to forgive me and promising I wouldn’t kill again .the next day would come and I would be all dressed up again in my sparkly costume fluttering my wings in the warm summer wind, when the urge would come over me again .I tried so hard not to touch them stopping paralyzed, keeping my arms to my sides, squeezing my hands tight. but then one would land taunting me with how immaculate she was and I would have to take its life .I thought would God would forgive for breaking my promises if I kept them looking beautiful as my penance. So I placed there corpses between the pages of my story books, to count them over like rosary beads before my bedtime. This began my compulsion to break beautiful things, to take what I felt I didn’t have and maybe the more I took the more I might feel that magnificence within me.

I am not a church going girl, but when I feel so destroyed after weeks of merciless lunacy, I crawl into one wanting with such insatiable desire to believe the bullshit coming from the altar. I try out different churches thinking one might have an answer for why I turned out like this .I want to believe, I want to throw my hands up and say Lordy, Lordy thank you for saving me, but instead I try out the boys when the words they spew with hate and guilt fail to give me hope to a better life.

I was praying in church one day, my hands held together tight and after when everyone said Amen in uninspiring unison I opened my eyes and he was there beside me. He shook my hand, asked my name and welcomed me to the church. At that moment I wanted him with a huger that hurt; it burned and twisted in my gut. I wanted his divine hopes, his clear translucent thoughts. I wanted to see his beauty twitch in my grasp. I wanted His God.

He picks me up for church every Sunday and drops me off a good forty five minutes out of his way. He has never seen my days of madness, I make sure I am on my best behaviour and dressed the part so when he lands I will catch him. His hair is as fair as is his skin with his veins seeping though like water colors on paper .he would make a beautiful woman I think and is completely charming in his unknowing innocence and unfaltering beliefs.

Today after church he drives me back to my house. On the car ride home he talks about his cookie cutter life and ideals while I listen and he looks over and at me with the bluest eyes full of admiration, with his lips perfectly shaped parting largely to smile. I can’t help think he is euphoric and full of that enchantment, the kind of magic that drives me to kill. The kind that I try to make see that the world is not as free and picturesque as they make it seem. My hands feel tense and I squeeze them at my sides.

I know my family is gone today so when he stops the car my nature takes over and I lean over and kiss him. His mouth fills mine perfectly and he has the most aromatic kiss I have ever tasted .there is no stain of smoke, other women or sin on his breath. I want to devour everything about him.

I have my hands in his face I tilt my head away fome the sun squinting

Do you want to come inside?

He hesitates looking at me and swallows uncomfortably

Ok

I hold him but the hand walking the path to my door .I have that urge from childhood to swing my arms, skip, hold him tight and marvel at what I just caught. But I remain calm so he does not slip away a mistake I have made before.

I have never been with a girl he says .even though he is older than me he has not seen and felt the chaos I have. I am far more damage than even his worst dream and that is what I adore about him. Was I too as innocent and careless as him at one time? If so I can’t remember.

He sits on the couch and I take off my clothes I climb onto his lap.

I love you he says

I grin with the back of my teeth clenched at his sincerity, he hardly knows me, but it makes me feel wanted that someone so radiant sees something good about me. Even though I know I charmed him, mimicked his actions to make him believe something that I am not for my own benefit. I rationalize that everyone tries to mould people into what they want, instead of loving them for who they are.

I kiss him on the cheek and his skin on my lips is as delicate and smooth as a butterfly wing

I get off of him and tell him to stand up and take off his clothes. He modestly does as I ask removing everything that is keeping him safe from me. I tell him to turn around so I can see all of him; he puts his hands over his privates and hangs his head a bit. I feel a pinch of guilt for embarrassing him like this, but I shrug it off as my need to watch carefree things squirm. I get him to lie down and I smooth my hands over him .everything about him is frail and delicate at my touch .you are just so beautiful I tell him and I mean that. He stays quiet and nervous .his eyes blinking in-flight.

I feel like a man, one who takes whatever he wants, and for the first time I understand that animalistic nature. To steal all that power, to have all that innocence entirely encased and displayed in moments of them forever. The only difference is the placement of fear. I am not cruel and violent to him with my body .I do not take in anger or deviant and diseased obsession, and I do not take for a lust just to get off on him. I take only so I can feel the freedom he carelessly holds. The one I have searched years to have and come up short.

I hold his face in my hands and his light hair spills over my fingers and I smile at him my hair falling in his face. I keep his gaze expecting him to say no, expecting him to read the pleas in my eyes to not take this from him, but he has never known a look like mine.

I stretch myself across his flesh and he hardly moves as I put him inside of me. I feel like I should pray before I fuck him so I glace up timidly .he keeps his hands on my hips seemingly afraid to touch anything else .as I move back and forth all I can hear is my cross that keeps hitting my chest like a heartbeat .the tickiking of my guilty conscience. I see the look changing in his eyes his perfect mouth opens, his body shakes he releases his last breath of innoscence. I have killed another for my collection another bead to count on my rosary and another broken memory.

I start praying in my mind ,a promise I won’t do this again that I won’t break anymore of your beautiful things God .I lie down on him my dark hair like a shadow across his skin ,a stain he will never get out. he smoothes down my wild hair, wraps the messy waves around his fingers and rubs his hands along my back .I know as much as I capture, steal and fucking take that I will never become beautiful by stealing another’s .I envy there flight so much that I take it from them so I don’t have to look at anything reminding me of what I never can be.

You are an angel he says and kisses me on the forehead

I think in my mind so was Lucifer

I get up and take a shower so hot it burns my skin. From now on I tell myself I will only keep the company of ones like me .the bottom feeders, the diseased ones that devour and rip apart everything that is good. The ones that never have a contented belly, always that distended ache of want and need of that something more. I will keep in the company of the ones who always reach out to God just to get our hands slapped in punishment for bad behaviour.

My hope is that he keeps the others from landing near me…....

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death, depression, drugs, dying, fear, hope, illness, insanity, loss, love, lovers, mental, rape, sex and water