#day1866

[deathimselfart]

'⏁⍜⍜

[yourflowersfirst]

i pray to the warmth in your voice, summer unfolding softly behind your eyes. let it linger, i beg, just this one time. i laid my head in your lap, that hot august night, in the field by the creek where i once scraped my knee in middle school. we kept almost kissing, that night. lips pressed between words. my bated breath that smelled like cherry lollipops. the sun hasn’t risen. the moon hung low enough to touch, fingertips soft, as if scared it could shatter.

you drove me home, begrudgingly, at 3:08 am. i leaned out your car’s window and allowed the wind to fuck up my hair- my hair that happened to still smell like you- your smoke, the earth, leather, old cars.

i try to tell you i adore you as we sit in my parents’ driveway, garage light attracting fireflies. the words don’t come out right, spilled milk curdling on my tongue, fast and messy. letters clotting in my throat. i wonder if silence is your devotion: if you hold the quiet like a thread between your teeth, if not saying my name feels as deliberate as swallowing.

it’s like you punished me for loving you.

i didn’t love you halfway. i loved you when you were cold, when you said nothing for days. when you shut the door in my face. i waited outside anyway, shivering in the empty hallway of your absence.

honestly, i wish you’d look me in the eyes and just spit it out. tell me you hate me. not with distance, not with silence. use your voice like a blade. cut me open with it. make me bleed something eternal.

i remember when i traced my finger across the ridges of your jawline for the first time. “you have such a lovely face,” i’d said to you. “does it get you everything you want?”

“almost.”

there was something so significant about that one word it put a hitch in my breath. desiring you was a feast i’d only allowed myself to indulge in once. for the rest of my days, i was starving-

i’ve gotten into the habit of imagining you. you shuffling through paperwork, stirring coffee, running your hands through your hair in the shower. i imagine the music you hum under your breath. the sway in your step. the scratch of your finger on your cheekbone when you think too much. i picture a soft “hello” tossed my way, a glance toward me that feels everlasting.

but then the coffee goes cold. the water runs out. the music stops before i can ask it to stay, before i can even ask what song it is.

i am a selfish woman. how selfish of me to claim a man like you as my own, so gentle and soft hearted. i am selfish because i know you deserve a better woman- one who isn’t bitter, tainted, dirty…

i am trying to be that woman for you. sweet and easily digestible. it isn’t an easy task for me, admittedly. my body is crimson red and i taste like endless summer paranoia. death- she lives in between my thighs. i saw god in the backseat of your car, in a sun eaten orange peel, in the elasticity of strawberry smoke. you kissed my spine, your tender clavicle touched mine. with uncaffeinated drowsiness, you dropped me home.

july is now seeping into august sluggishly, blood dribbling onto a white shirt. i think of you often. i want to get better. i want to sink to the bottom of the pool. another summer spent with red stained lips, the smell of tart sleep, liquid tylenol. i want to bite my teeth into life and suck on the marrow, but i am swallowing cherry pits. i will get it right next time. i will wash it off myself, clean.

we met in the back of the bar. you smiled, all knives. you said, “you don’t know me yet, but you will. we’re going to be dangerous, you and i.” found out biblically wasn’t the only way to know someone when i finally got my hands on you and tore your chest open, looking for something that would burn me.

we lived like thieves. wanted every sin that couldn’t fit inside eden, carried them out with our mouths. held our lips open with bloodied fingers to trade kisses in the shade of a fig tree. it withered as you put your hands in places desire had no name.

now, i’ve fucked enough boys to know when someone’s trying to find god. i’ve crushed the head of the snake with my heel. i’ve cut my hands trying to turn something that does not love me into something that thinks i am beautiful. i’ve stood on top of everything trying to stay one step above hell. god, i swear it’s chasing me.

i stole you from the garden for a simple reason, i wanted you desperately, and i took all its wildness with me.

“you look so interesting.”

i grinned up at him. “yeah? how’s that?”

“well, you’re not very pretty. definitely not hot. but you are a thing i’d notice across the room, remember for the rest of the day. maybe even the rest of the week.”

“you sure know how to win a gal over,” i barked out a laugh. it sounded awkward and tangled in my throat. “is this supposed to make me want to sleep with you?”

he grabbed my chin with his hand, not rough but not exactly kind either. “you already want that.”

“such an arrogant ass. your mom pays me to hang out with you, ya know.”

“i was trying to be nice,” his breath warmed me as he leaned in closer, i smelled decay and stale cigarettes and the orange he’d eaten an hour and a half ago. “you have an ugly face, but it’s one i want to keep.”

i let him kiss me, teeth scraping the snag of a tongue, i would let him do whatever he liked, whether for a day or a week, my sweet little soul bled for him and nothing he’d say would patch the wound.

summer ate away at me. picked me apart, insect by insect, freckle by freckle. the peaches ripened as i stayed in. slow, sticky dreams clouded my mind each night. in the afternoons, i sat under the willow tree and the smell of cheap cigarettes and missed opportunities hung heavy in the air. i hadn’t been kissed all month and i could swear my mouth was tingling with it. the want. august had come so suddenly. hot and sickly sweet. i was desperate for a romance, a love i could drown in, wading in your palms. instead i stayed at the bottom of the pool and stank of chlorine.

most nights i’d throw the window open and listen to the cicadas scream at me. i’d think about you. i’d lay in bed, blankets tossed on the floor, wonder what you were doing. who you were with, how you touched them. meanwhile i was all alone, a needy little thing, wanting to feed off you. (all i do is want, all i do is crave what i cannot have.) i knew i didn’t cross your mind. not once the whole summer. still, i liked to remain delusional. i took my medication and changed into my pajamas and imagined you were with me, teeth on the base of my neck, my long crimson hair surrounding us both like rich blood. i never knew hunger had such a taste until i met you.

it’s been 5 years now. just a little over. i blame my ugliness and foulness on what happened. i blame it all on what he did to me, because it’s easier that way. if i am being honest with myself, i know its my fault. what happened to me when i was 6 was not my fault, sure (i dont even remember most of it) but what happened to me at 19 was all me. i was asking for it. begging, really. i was bad and the universe punished me justly. the blood seeped onto his old couch every time he did it. i wonder if the stains are still there.

[kabunaluna]

July 18,2025,Sushi dinner always tasty at Kuchi

[russellolsonart]

Inspired by a friend 2023 Daily drawing no.:040 Daily drawing no. to date.: 1,866 . . . . . . #day040of2023 #day1866 #1866 #february #february2023 #procreate #character #random #onedrawingadaychallenge #onedrawingaday #dailydrawing #drawing #illustration #russellolsonart https://www.instagram.com/p/CoeJ5qxO61b/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[bellascreativity]

#100happydays #Day1866 Thank goodness for murder podcasts and knitting. (at Monmouth, Oregon) https://www.instagram.com/p/BysfshzjYa9/?igshid=ljmwtgg89a79