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The girl
My sudden realization was, I had seen her more often naked, in the cold dark of her bed, than I had in the soothing light of day. Her eyes were as cold and dark as the atmosphere I came and went in. The walls were decorated with the faces of men that had shared her bed, as I did. Like notches on the prison cell of one wrongly convicted of a crime of passion. All, with the same promises I, never sincerely, promised. Of love and life, abundantly. The presence of the demons that haunted her, never lacking company, was as evident as the fake love making, we occupied ourselves with. Never did we dress so quickly, as we did.. After. Her hair draped over the sheets as the shadows drape over candle, as it grows dim. Just as her lust for life did, when she was young. But, no longer. Fake promises, fake orgasms, fake love, to match her fake lovers. A world full of fake in a very real darkness.
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