She's my saviour. Every morning I shove myself, unshowered, into my polyester waitresses uniform. My hands shake as I do up the buttons and as I attempt to tame my curls. She kisses me behind the ear, brushes back my hair. I stand still and watch the girl in(more) the mirror be kissed.
"I love the way you smell," she says, mouth buried in my neck. And then, quieter: "No one will love you like I do." She pulls me closer, fingers around my wrists like handcuffs.
During the day my hands carry plates, make up salads, lay tables and scribble down orders. I do not think about burning myself against the stove, not even after all the times when the café fills up with noise and my head clutters up and I strain to make out words from sounds and I strain to scribble those words down and my cheeks hurt from smiling.
I think, she loves me. She loves me and so I must be kind to this body that she kisses.
The afternoon is quieter and so I am surprised when a group comes in and seats themselves, more surprised when there she is amongst them. I smile at her but she turns her head.
"Can we get some more menus?" one of them asks. I bring them and leave to fetch a water jug. From the kitchen I can hear them laughing.
"She has scars all up her arms." I tug my sleeves down. "Mental patient arms!"
I wait for my saviour to speak but she is silent.
I let out a breath and go back out there. "Here you go, Julia," I say. I put the water jug down carefully. She is teaching me to be less clumsy.
It was raining by the time Masayoshi ducked into the koban - not heavily, but a drizzle that complimented the early grey twilight. The sun had been absent since the morning, and the entire city seemed muted without it.
(more) Totsuka - Gotou's superior officer - looked up when he heard the shuffle, and smiled at Masayoshi. He never seemed to mind the intrusion, not like Gotou did - and Masayoshi smiled in return. "Gotou-kun is on bicycle patrol," he said. "He should be back shortly, did you want to wait for him?"
"Yes, if that's all right," Masayoshi said, closing the umbrella he'd brought and shaking it outside the door.
The koban itself was quiet - just Totsuka at the moment. Masayoshi sat himself at Gotou's desk, elbows on the table and chin in his hands, watching out the window like an eager puppy.
Not too long after, he saw Gotou walking his bicycle across the street, talking with someone walking beside him and holding an umbrella over them both. Masayoshi's brow furrowed - he didn't recognize this other person. He seemed - a lot more familiar with them than he would just a random pedestrian who required the assistance of a police officer - and the Gotou tilted back his head. Laughing, Masayoshi realized. He swatted this other person in the arm, they shoved him and then stepped away, opting not to cross the street with Gotou and waving.
He didn't quite understand the emotion that sat raw and roiling in his stomach. Masayoshi stood as Gotou walked the bicycle to the rack, only to find that his hands were shaking.
"I'm back," Gotou called as he ducked in, shaking the water off of his cap. "Oh, hey, Masayoshi. Sorry, am I late? I lost track of time."(less)
In clouded vision, I always say images. Hazy and obtuse...but present. Wild. Exhilarating. I tried to tell the woman I loved of the pain her heart caused me, but oh that is a taboo beyond vision, now isn't it.
There was carnage and angelic truths. There was vision(more) and life and curious little limbs that traipsed in every way but the sun. I'm writing nonsense but I'm writing. I'm alive and my brain is thinking and every little quirk is crawling around my innards like some living thing.
What if I told you I lied all the time? What if I told you my words and my wheels spun faster then this little brain can suffer? There's a chaos I enjoy that feels like sunshine. I'm happy when I'm lost because words blur into freedom and style becomes some expression of freedom and love.
All I want to do is have sex with the love of my life and press his being into my being and melt into one being with four arms and four legs. What if every person melted into one another and became an image of strangeness?
What is the love in my heart emanated outward and every word I spoke was heard and every emotion in my little heart fluttered out like a butterfly? I'm lost and I'm dying but I'm alive and I'm glorious. I just want to marry the man that lives in my heart and give him sweet little cherubs that bounce around, gelled together with love.
I just want to be happy and whole and a vision of ideas and mood. I want to be something solid, something that exists far beyond when my flesh melts off and life leaves me life an afterthought. I want to exist, she whispered, to exist. (less)
Fog washes over me, the illusion of falling still rigid in my terror-stricken mind. The blindness brought by clouds is oddly comforting, hiding the carnage and desolation, almost as if it weren't my mess to clean up. The poisoned fog slowly takes my senses; sound and touch numbed by(more) chemicals I'm too sleepy to identify.
Slowly, I fall for real, doll-like and limp, crashing heavily into the smooth marble below me. My body throbs with impact but I can't move, can't sit up to check if anything's broken. I am broken.
I reach out for Lio, for Jo, for anyone, but I am trapped in a vaccum-sealed cloud of pain and helplessness. My limbs are as heavy as skyscrapers, muscles dimmed and dumbed and unresponsive. Thrashing in agony like I want to is useless and impossible.
Giants are sitting on my chest, every breath breathes against a mountain. I can't seem to find my thoughts anymore, blackness lingers where they once lived, panic envelops me like water, drowning me, dark, dark everywhere and yet I am still, paralyzed and heavy, but a torment inside, a churning mess of feel and think and words escape me.(less)