movies can be so raw, so real it hurts
i cried, wilting like a flower, when richie slit his wrists,
vertically, and watched the blood fill the sink because he loved
his sister when he shouldn't have. snot was trying on my face
when he kissed margot. when she kissed back i bloomed like
my reaction was more subdued when frank had done the exact same
thing, because frank had done this because he didn't like
himslef. and that i could relate to. things are less shocking when
they have happened to you before. the pain was there though, and my
heart fell into something thick and heavy.
i felt phantom pain in the joint of my elbow when harry had his arm
- the same terrifyingly pale shade of my own - amputated, the limb
purple and angry against his flesh from needles used by others. he
cried and screamed as nurses held him.
i shook as tyrone went through withdrawal, sweating profusely,
whimpering for the mother he had let down.
i found it hard to breathe when mia started to convulse, her nose
dripping red, and her mouth foaming like newly opened champagne.
the belt holding my lungs suddenly snapped when vince stabbed her
with a dose of epinephrine straight to the heart. i noticed our
breath rushed back into our bodies simultaneously.
i have felt more love for fictional people than anyone else, and i
do not know why. i think it is because they are so raw, and i think
this is because they are not afraid of who they are, because they
are unaware anyone is watching.