"I don't want you anywhere near me"

lead girl wrapped up tightly in her
friend cocoons, wears a mask of
cardboard and toilet paper rolls;
i heard of her from the man i was
sleeping with and i decided she was
the enemy because she had long gorgeous
thick hair a (wo)man could lose a sense of self
and eyes a blazing hazel that sucked the souls
of all around. i made her the enemy because
i knew i could never compete with such a
fiery, tempestuous beauty and i said "lead girl,
you leave him and me alone" because at the time
i thought how silly would it be for me to love
a woman of the flesh, because here i was
crying myself to sleep shuddering from the raping
thoughts every time that man o' mine touched me.

so i met lead girl at a church that i wanted to fornicate in
((that's all the good the altars are for, anyway)) but with
who i wasn't so sure. we watched each other that day,
with eyes of hazel and eyes of honey brown – the clash was
intense and i wanted to yank all that pretty sexhair out of
her head and wrap it around my neck like a prize that i
had conquered her ((which, in reality, i was never close in
doing)) but i made sure to sniff at all her comments and give
her that mocking smile whenever she thought she was witty
and i remember watching her out of the corner of my eye
marveling at the audacity she had to video record me when
she knew I had declared war long ago.

but then the war became something fragile, something i
needed to protect at all times and tell everyone how i
felt about her and left nothing unsaid and as soon as i
forgot how i truly felt and all i could wrap my mind around
was just how goddamn gorgeous she was:

it broke.

"you give me so much heartache"

she emailed me, claiming she wanted to be ohsogood ((friends))
with me and I thought, what.the.hey, and emailed her back
((i always was horrible at confrontations)) and that's when it began.
the infatuation, the staying on the internet for hours at a time
just waiting – fucking WAITING – for a short little email from
her to bide my time and drink it up till I thought I could drink no more
and I thought she was exquisite – her with her short nonformal emails
written in a stiffy formal way – perfect grammar, perfect spelling, perfect
every little thing she wrote, and as we progressed from tentative
acquaintances, to very good friends, to i-need-to-be-with-you friends, to
something a little sordid, something a little forbidden, and with that
man o' mine...

he was her best friend and vice-a-versa. sordid barely covered it.
i would lay in my bed, clutching a printed-out copy of her emails and think
'i hear the sound of breaking' and i couldn't tell if it was my heart or
something else, but something was definitely moving. So when she asked
for us both to come – me and him as a couple ((when what she really meant was
i want that girl for myself, but i have to keep up appearances)) i was ecstatic
to go to her house and be with that man o' mine cause i thought finally
- fucking FINALLY –
something would be resolved and the breaking would stop and i would
once again know who i loved; or at the very least to whom i was

a/n: the last two parts will be updated later. please leave love.