We could sit in silence and still hear each other's pain,
The bobby pins in bathroom doors and footsteps of the dark.
She knew what it was like - the suffering,
A window made of glass, peering in at myself,
Eyes so hollow and blue tinges underneath.
Our father, of no choice or reason, had ruined the inner workings of our grown skin, and we constantly pondered whether they had thought about what they did—as well as the other men who waited to creep in. Did they regret harming something so fragile, easily grasped in the palm of their hand?
Or, possibly, they enjoyed the power and loved the ability to tower over women at a whim.
So we trudged along the graveyard of other's sins. We sliced mdma with razor blades, stopping the cut from going too deep. We didn't want to die. We wanted to learn how to live. We were girls stuck in these bodies too big for us, childlike hearts that we refused to keep.
I decided to drug away the days. I was raging hot, full of anger yet to be recognized as fear. My school reports showed nonchalance, truancy, and occasional crying spells.
Eventually, I stopped showing up as often. Too caught in the cocaine bliss and the twenty-year-old men who showered me with gifts. Lust is love in the eyes of youth. Young, depressed girls are easily in the mind of a predator. So, it continued for years. It wasn't a story of resolve; it was the telling of a girl with her hand caught in a sliding door. Louise was beside me through it all. In our hurt and pain, we had each other who knew the intricate lining of our brains.
She was always at a distance, even when I was closest to her. The air between us always curled into questions of divinity and core beliefs. Were we forgiven? Is God punishing? If so, were we at fault? And it's simple. We were trusting and loving. That's what did us in. So, Louise learned to back away quickly. She decided no one would ever have the chance to do something unholy. And I played the long game, hoping my naivety would win. We cut corners during our teenage years; Louise barely finished high school, and I gave up. I spent the days waiting for her to return to my ma's house. My joints were packed and ready; pills were bought from my usual dealer. Perhaps we were just kids who didn't know how to be alone, but drifted from any company.
