die in whips and orgasms

WARNING: drug abuse, self harm, mentions of breathplay, really emo...like slit-my-wrists-kinda emo...no offense.

A little cold...love the cold seeping into your still moist skin.
hands a kimbo
legs at an odd angle.
naked.
so bloody cold.
the tiles, the air coming  in through the hotel's bathroom window.
eyes closed..lips chapped.
if someone walked in..they would think you were dead...died in the most bizzare pose...but that's your thing.
DRAMA QUEEN.
dead.
dead.
how could you not be with the arrays of weapons all over the floor...the pristine white tiles..
pink pills,
white pills,
pretty sky blue pills,
a mirror with three thin white lines,
a bowl with herb,

amber coloured liquid in crystal

your head is buzzing, you have goosebumps all over
nipples perk
gods you wanna fuck.

but you dont want to move.
you cant move.
lethargy

the voice in your head giggles...but nothing changes..fuck you are so fucking high...high...high...high....again, laughter.

eyes still closed.
you wonder if you can take another hit without moving...what is they call it? kenesis?  wuut?? thats not even a fucking word...dammit, you a fucking jedi bitch...use the force..
i would rather be Leia the voice yells..
...Padme is sexy...Natalie Portman..
fuck still horny.
dammit...so fucking stoned..
finally you move...just a bit...grasp at your hips tighter...
now you smile...grabbing your hipbones like that,
feels like you holding a motherfucking trophy.
excitement.
rush.
leeethargy.
run your fingers over your thighs.feel the smoothness
you cant know what is there...except...you do..
maybe you imagine it,
sticky.
so very sticky.
you can see them behind your closed eye lids
crimson gashes.
dried up blood.
dig your nails into it.

you think you have an orgasm.
the phone rings somewhere next to your right ear.voicemail.speaker
" baby where are you?? should we come pick you up? we wanted to be at the club by 1a.m its eleven. we miss you!! cannot wait to see you!!!"
...abit of crazy laughter and catcalls...then another softly...
"you mean you cant wait to see if she is skinnier"
"you are a bitch."
"fuck, still on call"
...someone clears their throat...you smirk.
"ANYWAY BOO....CALL US!!!"
....

friends.
you hate them.
you love them.

...
roll over...finally get up..
walk to the bourdoir.
pick up your brushes...
time to make art.

....concealer...every stroke...hide the bags under your eyes..
stroke....stroke...the purple bruise on your cheek you could never explain.
stroke...stroke...stroke..

...your favourite bit...foundation....literally, wear a mask..with every soft brush...to your jaws...to your hairline..to your neck..

beautiful. hidden imperfections= perfection.

done...down to the flimsy red dress and six inch heels...your colleagues at work wouldnt recognise  you.

slut.

you step out...the door man stares..
blow him a kiss.
when you walked in...you were in a short skirt.
professional.
hair sleeked back.
red lipstick.
briefcase.
rimmed glasses.
pumps..

and you walk out.

red dress.
hair to your waist.
red lipstick.
gold clutch..
gold chocker...to hide finger prints..you shiver when you remember.
you cannot wait.

get to the club.
blow kisses.
skinny mojito....slutty..like you.

and the music...you sway, with your drink held high.
that girl all men secretly wanna leash and whip.
that girl all girls want on their knees, bound.

you are in love.
with death.
and tonight...its in the arms of whoever takes you home..

and tomorrow...if you make it..
back to the board rooms and salad for lunch..
right now...its the poison in your veins, the bruises on your back, the drink in your hand..
your friends at the bar..
and the man walking towards you.

ciao bellas