Have I ever told you how good I am at multi-tasking? I always have been. I can sit across from you and pretend that I care about every word that drips from your lips; nodding, smiling, making eye contact, throwing in an "uhuh, "mmhmm," or "yeah," all at the same time as I am internally despising and picking apart every ounce of your being.
Staring into those sad eyes, that have never had a reason to be sad, have known nothing but privilege and entitlement. I'm straining to find any sign of a conscience.
Uhuh.
Your slicked back hair falling over your eyes, a shadow revealing your true darkness. You push it back, restoring the mask, you put on for the world.
Mmhmm.
You loosen your tie, and roll up your sleeves, while still talking. What a relief it must be, after a hard day's work. Loosening the grip of reality from your neck. Like the grip you have around mine, that only gets tighter with time.
Yeah.
How happy we must look to anyone who passes by.
Smiling at one another. You still haven't stopped talking. I sit, soaking up whatever the fuck is still dripping from your lips, while dissecting every part of you I cannot stand.
Uhuh.
