This is awkward

Dear you and everyone who pretends to be you:

This is awkward. I didn't expect you to happen along my common sense so soon. I was packing quietly and formulating my escape, while you slept on my breast. I have been reading passages in your mind like my favorite novel for some time now, and it not only disgusts me, it moves me to look upon you as the broken thing you were upon our first meeting so long ago. I never liked serpents. Must have been remembering Eve's mistake a time or two; or the lingering forked tongue with sweet subtle willow-eyed-powers-of-persuasion. I see why Lilith left screaming and Esther ran away. I see you fake smiling, all the while, using me for comfort and pillows and I gain nothing but cum stained cheeks and poundage from inactivity.
It might seem sudden my departure, but this is how you plan your escape. You make it seem like you planted a leaf to turn but it doesn't. It's a show to soothe your passing from my everyday. It's a way to coddle something physically smaller, and in your eyes too meek to feign existence without you. (Wait, I'm trying not to laugh through that last sentence.) Humor, even sardonic in nature, qualifies as a quality release under the circumstance. You needed a rebound more than the Knicks need defense; more than the rubber band holding my Afro in place needs elasticity; more than the quiet brittle branch slapping you; walking under my cherry tree in its last act of defiance before the wood chipper.
You needed comfort during your time of sadness and through your transition between the shedding from that reptilian skin to a shinier new color of deception so the kiddies are none the wiser. The funny thing is when you finish, as with licking the spoon after dessert is done; you toss that plastic cup and me in one fell swoop into the nearest recycling bin. I'm not surprised, just a little, by the length of time it took you. Scraping the last bit of sunshine took a bit more effort than you thought and now the hugs are forced; the snuggles aren't genuine; the world sees you for who you are and bets against you. I pity you more than I'll ever liked you, and that saddens me.
I wish you well and all the happiness you truly deserve.

Sincerely




Me and that lady who used to be me.