✝ sexdrugsalcohol ✝

doncasturbate:

my sense of style is

“fuck im late”

“what is this”

“i love this shirt im gonna wear it for 2 weeks straight”

Sally is the girl with eyes like Egypt and nylons the color of smoke. The boys at school think she’s beautiful because her hair is shiny black like raven feathers and when she laughs, she flicks her hair back like a satin shawl over her shoulders and laughs.

Her father says to be this beautiful is trouble. They are very strict in his religion. They are not supposed to dance. He remembers his sisters and is sad. Then she can’t go out. Sally i mean.

Sally, who taught you to paint your eyes like Cleopatra? And i if i roll the little brush with my tongue and chew it to a point and dip it in the muddy cake, the one in the little red box, will you teach me?

I like your black coat and those shoes you wear, where did you get them? My mother says to wear black so young is dangerous, but i want to buy shoes just like you. Cheryl, who is not your friend anymore, not since last Tuesday before easter, not since the day you made her ear bleed, not since she called you that name and bit hole in your arm and you looked as if you were going to cry and everyone was waiting and you didn’t, you didn’t. Sally, not since then, you don’t have a best friend to lean against the schoolyard fence with, to laugh behind your hands at what the boys say. There is no one to lend you her hairbrush.

The stories the boys tell in the coatroom, they’re not true. You lean against the schoolyard fence alone with your eyes closed as if no one was watching. as if no one could see you standing there, Sally. What do you think about when you close your eyes like that? And why do you have to always go straight home after school? You become a different Sally You pull your skirt straight, you rub the blue paint off your eyelids.

You don’t laugh, Sally. You look at your feet and walk fast to the house you can’t come out from.

Sally, do you sometimes wish you didn’t have to go home? Do you wish your feet would one day keep walking and take your far away, far away and maybe your feet would stop in front of a house, a nice one with flowers and big windows and steps for you to climb up two by two upstairs to where a room is waiting for you.

There’d be no nosy neighbors watching. You could go to sleep and wake up and never have to think who likes and doesn’t like you. You could close your eyes and you wouldn’t have to worry about what people said because you never belonged here anyway and nobody could make you sad and nobody would think you’re strange because you like to dream and dream. And no one could yell and say you are bad, without somebody saying you are wrong, without the whole world waiting for you to make a mistake when all you wanted, all you wanted, Sally, was to love and to love, and to love and to love, and no one could call that crazy.