I had spent the majority of my life dosed up on antipsychotics,
pills floating in my stomach in a desperate attempt to flood my brain with sanity.
Grown men and women asking me questions and then putting me somewhere with white, cushioned walls.
And if I did so much as raise my hand to defend myself, i'd find myself being restrained by men in white clothing.
I never really saw daylight.
I'm writing this letter to whoever may read this as i need to apprise of why I did such a thing.
I selected the first woman I saw, I saw plenty of women within the white walls, but none with a complexion so beautiful and so unique.
I had this urge since I could detect detestation,
It was as if i needed to make my mark on the world as I has not done so before.
The urge seemed infinite, I could not cease the sensation.
The last thing I saw in her eyes was my reflection.
That night, I watched her blood drip from the coffee table to paint the carpet red,
I watched the whites in her eyes grow more intense,
And that night I lost my virginity to the most beautiful woman I had ever met.