escape/ 65

So you kiss the boy and you stop

thinking about drowning, stop

overthinking for a split second,

but then he touches your waist

and suddenly you’re aware of how

big it is, how wide is is, how even

though he’s kissing you, he 

still thinks you’re fat, how even

though you’re kissing him, you

still think you’re fat, but then his

hand moves higher and your

mind is an old television set, 

your thoughts are being 

scrambled- all you can hear

is static, so you kiss him, and

you forget about shrinking for

a while and expand in his arms,

until you’re almost a world, 

until you’re almost a girl not

afraid of her own body, of 

her own mind, but it never

lasts; you used the boy as 

an escape route, as a panic 

room, as a sign that things 

don’t always have to be

twisted, but the boy always

has to leave, and you always

have to return to reality- that’s

the thing about escape, it

never lasts forever, that’s the 

thing about the boy; you can 

kiss him now but what happens

when he leaves and you 

still want to shrink? That’s the

thing about running away, 

somehow, you always end up

back where you started.


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