by Jane Doe
Once, I heard this song on the radio... I thought about that song for a long time.
|Everybody hurts sometimes. Speakers on full, sun beaming through the window on to my forehead. I have a lump in my throat and it's burning. I swallow snot and not feel discusting. I don't care enough to. I want to sing so fu**ing bad but there is just no voice in me. There's no way it could be, because I am holding my breath and my chest is burning. I grip the steering wheel for dear life, I am holding on to it and never letting go. Neither the steering wheel, nor my breath. You are not alone. I know. But I feel like it. But then again I am not driving. I am lying on the couch in the living room, gripping on to my phone, instagram posts holding up a middle finger to my face. I could brake this thing. This creature that spits poison as I scroll and rub its stomach. I don't want to sing. I want to scream. Yeah, that's it.
Sweety. Sit properly, now would you? Don't slouch your pretty shoulders. And look at those pretty eyes.. How pretty you are, like a picture. But come on, sweety you know what you gotta do. Show us them peary whites. Show us your pretty smile. A pretty smile for pretty eyes.
And then she does it. She sits up. They catch the corners of her mouth with two fish hooks. They are not sharp so they do not pierce easily. But they pull as hard as they can. All for a pretty smile.
There are four hooks, two for each eye back there, for them pretty eyes of hers. But she will hook them on herself, so she could look and scroll, but not scream. At the end, everybody hurts sometimes, right?
Now she is a little goldfish.
She doesn't need to hold her breath anymore.
Blup, blup, blup.
She drove of the road.
Don't be silly, we were in the car with her.