She sits down across from me at a cozy little cafe,
"We walk the same way," I think to myself as I plaster a smile on my face.
Her eyes go to work using the greatest amount of scrutiny, she is slowly tearing me apart.
I stay composed, my smile does not crumble, my words are nothing but honey. "You look so good, it's nice to see you again! It has really been too long."
My body begins to tilt forward slightly, hanging on to the sweet air, waiting for her to reply, waiting for the formal casualties.
"I see you've lost some weight," she replies coolly. She looks me up and down, she sees the bags under my eyes, the minute bruises on my hands, the awkward fit of my clothing. She smiles to be polite.
In front of her there is nothing but beautiful destruction.
I stick my fingers down my throat to please her and to spite her. I stick my fingers down my throat to achieve the perfection I can never achieve.
She orders only the finest, I order a salad with no dressing. She eats the daintiest portions. Whatever I finally put in my mouth will come back up later.
We both order tea. I smile at her, yearning for her approval. I want her to validate me, to make me real again. I am scared and I am uncertain.
"The tea," she says, "is beginning to stain your teeth. You should stop drinking it."
My fingers rest on my neck and collarbones, pale doves on a stark winter backdrop. I have no color in my skin.
She is captivating, she can turn every head in a room. She is beautiful and commanding.
She is me. |
Submission Name: Only The Finest
