They come to me. But they never seem to go as easily as they come to me. I'm a simple girl. I want nothing more than to bathe in my solitude. But these men, so foolish by nature they want nothing more than to claim me.
They threaten my essence.
And so well I hurt them. So well I hurt them too - my dear So well in fact that they come for seconds. And when I start hurting them I can't seem to stop.
I carry their morsels, their names in my every stride in my sway lies their broken hearts. At night, I lay on a bed of virtuous compliments. I adorn my flesh with their promises my skin reeks of their tenderest secrets. My dress a construct of their desires alone. You will hear their fervent pleas from time to time concealed so effortlessly beneath my laugh a soft cackle.
It is true.
I have dulled many lives. Yet I have never felt more alive. Because my dear I’m sure that you too would agree I wear them well
les garçons.
- do not try to convince her that your companionship is better than her solitude