Teenage Panic Attack

Every young girl has a chip on their shoulder, thinking privacy is a God-given right. Invasion via stepmom is a major violation, anger is self-righteous. How dare you, crystal said to her stepmother when she found her snooping through her bedroom dresser. The one with all of the her things – plastic jewelry, love letters, and for ever – growing collection of bras. The one crystals now deceased mother painted a dusty pale pink color when she was getting the nursery together for crystals arrival-- the same pink of her now retired , stretched out, stained training bras. These bras are never seen by the boys she had slept with, the hooks never loosened by the quick and sweaty hands of immature playboys. Like Dylan who after weeks of being manager at Medusa’s Pizzeria found his way into her white Guess jeans, which she had purchased just for that evening. Before Dylan arrived she helped Evie her roommate get ready for her date , Crystal’s hidden dimples visible die to her inability to hide her shit-eating grin. Teasing emus fair she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror craning her neck for the anticipation of necking with Dylan. Crystal took the wraps Holcomb and rapidly brushed his thin blonde hair into a bouffant, a technique she had practice on a little girl she once babysat. "He's all right?" Asked Evie. Crystal made an enthusiastic “mm-hmm” while shielding Evie’s broad forehand with hand from the clouds of Aquanet  she sprayed to hold the hair in place.

After Evie left for her date, the dimples on Crystal space relax as her mouth smoothed into a soft pout.  Dylan arrived, he knocked on the door, the sound making her vibrate. The underwire bra she bought this fortnight felt right and tight as if it structured down to the moment, so her heart wouldn't fly out of her chest leaving behind a young beautiful shell.  She stood  in that small between the front door and the kitchen, that dusty pale pink come over her. She felt soft inside like strawberry frozen yogurt in white paper cup, strawberry flavor spreading over her red wet tongue. Taking a step forward then standing on her tiptoes she looked through the peep hole. She could feel Dylan's cool cerulean blue energy but all she could see was the dark green shrubs surrounding the walkway. He focused squinting her left still nothing. Jolted by the sound of Dylan's pacing steps she looked harder. She could his face, wide and shiny face still handsome and clean looking even with the unflattering widening from the peephole lenses. Before unlocking the door, she could feel something inside of her, something approaching yet ancient , something smooth yet rough, piercing yet welcomed, a tender violation.

Instead of Disappearing...

One day Willow read a book that told her that she was merely just watching her life.  Like everything that happened to her was a television program or a motion picture.  Then it clicked.  Every time she watched Ghost World , she felt  a sadness when Enid Coleslaw got on the bus and left forever.  The bitter feeling of loss stuck with her for days after watching the VHS she played every so often as she folded laundry.

If her life was merely something she watched , she longed to change the channel. She looked everywhere for the remote control. Under couch cushions, under the armoire, in the fridge. There was a little bit of anxiety here if not urgency .  Then she started looking in weird places like in the backseat of the car of the guy she was fucking every once a week or so. He would wonder why she, naked with his oyster inside of her , needed to look for anything after he gave her his righteous animal sex.  She started looking for it in the front yard as she pulled weeds by the roots. She felt such natural violence would make this remote appear. She looked in bottles of muscle relaxers. She felt the remote in her hands but she never quite wanted to grasp it at that point.

She became lazy and stopped looking for it. She thought about it from time to time.  She wondered why the guy she fucked never called her back and thought maybe she should talk to him again. He might have hidden this remote. He said he didn’t have it and thought she was one of the strangest girls that wouldn’t let him fuck her up the ass. He tried.  The next time she saw him he tried again. She said  it hurt when he tried to stick his dick in her ass , he spit on his dick and stuck it in slowly and continued . She turned around and punched him. He smiled and then she got dressed.  He dropped her off and there was the remote glimmering on the bridge she lived next to. She could see it in the twilight of the moon . He speed off and she walked to the bridge, mesmerized by the device that would change the boredom of her own existence.

At the bridge time slowed down.  Late night traffic created some sort of congratulatory whistle of success in finding the remote control.  As she got closer to the remote her many hearts fell into her stomach and then shifted around her lungs. She felt like she had pulled a muscle, she was so excited. As she bent down to retrieve the remote control it fell in the water. She jumped in after it , the water stung her skin. Her skull was crushed in sections and she searched for it blindly in the water.  Bones were broken and she gasped for air. Something hit her in the chest. It felt natural. Like it was herself collapsing from the inside out. She was fascinated with the feeling and everything changed, everything turned to static.  

Meeting Someone New

Meeting someone new, walking inside his head is like finding yourself in a deserted apartment. All of the furniture scooted up against the wall. This is when you put on your loverface.

Loverface is hard to capture, once you get her , she is hard to get rid of. According to her parents, he’s a very nice guy. But she never met the person they are mentioning, who fucks girls in his barn and let his chickens watch . Sometimes the rooster pecks at a girl and she cries and leaves with little feathers in her hair. Loverface thinks this is in bad taste.
But his loverface is the size of a dinner plate. Is there anything better than to compare it to something you can eat off of? A lady all bent up and chopped up in a suitcase. She is alive again. Revived through the thought of loverface.
Her ass is like no other ass and more of a platter than a plate. Slap it and she will call you “daddy”. Let’s take care of things here. No other chance or option than to get a little sweaty and let the aftertaste make all the wrong choices for you. This is when loverface is surprised to be around like she had come into something she just didn’t want.
Sometimes you find loverface in unusual places. A party where I find him in a wide hallway with his pants around his ankles. He has on his loverface. Teeth showing and hair grown out. He looks at loverface. She looks back not sure I have my loverface on. He is leaning on a china cabinet. The silver rattles inside when he shifts his weight, his bare ass pressed against the drywall. Loverface has never known of such a man to lean on a piece of furniture when there is fun to have for just a song. Yeah loverface might leave him and eat a bowl of rabbit stew. But I snoop through the china cabinet instead talking to him and his loverface. He says something and squeezes a handful of her ass leaving it red. Everyone leaves the party feeling wet and bruised, except this party in the hallway. Loveface, he says to pretend to acknowledge her as she slams all the drawers and cabinets shut. He pulls up his pants, as he zips he said “loverface”. He and everyone else know about it, not because you are talking about loverface but because everyone can see her glowing about.

Pretty in Oklahoma

A freckle on the breast
Cleavage to the double chin
Bad posture
A wicked smile
A little voice
Moaning back
And forth
She is no pixie
But wants to carry the pollen
On her gentle soft wings
She is pretty in Oklahoma
Her shoulders and boulders
Stretching
The fabric
Of the costume
She is low down
She moves the heart
And meat in heat
Waiting for something
Better
Cause it’s not enough
Pale and red headed
Flat forehead
In mosaic
She can make
You feel better