Dirty Curve

by Meagan Brandy

sometimes that includes allowing the people on the outside to look at you and see a fool because the energy it takes to change their mind isn’t worth the time, not when yours is needed elsewhere.

I don’t know what to do, but I know what I want to do, and it’s not the morally correct option. It’s the selfish, lonely, hopeless one.

My body aches with conflicting emotions, twisting and turning at an insufferable rate. Dread and desire.

Fear and comfort. Disgrace and devotion.

Regret is a motherfucker, and that motherfucker knows me well.

This is what sex is supposed to feel like. Raw and primitive, a full-body takeover. No thought, no plan, no holding back.

It was devastating when he painted me a promise of sunsets and delivered instead a thunderstorm of destruction,