Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1812776-Cool
Rated: · Prose · Dark · #1812776
Sometimes I don't want to understand what I know.
A five inch foam snowman sits
in the middle of her coffee table.
Amidst many more that can be found all around
inside her home.
She is as beautiful as a woman can be
so much so that men never tire of trying to get her.
She tells me that winter is her favorite time of the year.
That when the snow covers everything she
feels like she can be herself.
She believes she has it all together like a smart model in a magazine.
so perfect.
Admiring herself so much that her room is filled with mirrors.
So she can watch herself while men are trying to please her.
She deliberately picks average looking men so
they can’t believe that she would be with someone one like them.
and it all goes to their hearts.
If they could ever see past the beauty and sex
they would uncover her expertize at acting like she cares.
But before that can happen, she begins to treat them poorly,
seeing two or more of them at a time.
Measuring each one up for what he can provide
just as they have measured her up as a living reward for
their otherwise plain existence.
She places demands, she needs possessions, and
things to brag about with friends.
So she creates conflicts with them filled with days of not speaking
to them so she can sneak out with one of the others, unnoticed.
While compelling the victim to apologize with
expensive meals and vacations, things she can’t afford.
After all they can’t help this feeling they have inside
She is so beautiful.
How can they deprive themselves of the, once in a lifetime,
So they buy her gifts, meals, and more snowmen.

© Copyright 2011 Patroness (mitogenesis at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1812776-Cool