zen minokato *tw suicide*

loving someone feels like being in a fast car with no breaks
it feels like dying a little bit everyday and then coming back to life without your consent
it's exhausting and raw
painful.

i fell in love in highschool, with this boy i'd barely known since i was four
we'd spent everyday together for as long as I could remember
he smelled like smoke and orange tic tacs.

we got married when we were sixteen because
it felt right and our parents couldn't give less of a shit.
we got our own place on my mother's dime and she never
even noticed.

I carved his initials into my skin with his family ring
everytime he slammed his fist into my side.
SL. SL. SL.

we'd got my mother's blessing:
who else is going to love you zen,
might as well.

i got good at covering the bruises, good enough.
i bought a different pair of sunglasses for every day of the week,
then month.

someone noticed, asked me to help them too and
i liked it, making the bruises disappear like a doctor.
"You should be a stylist."

we bought a big greenhouse and converted it,
laughed together the whole time, he kissed me
because there was paint on my cheek.

I signed up for beauty school, kissed SL on the cheek
in the mornings, ignoring the smell of dried blood on his arms.

"There's something wrong with me Zen,
I don't mean to hurt you baby, I'd never."

I know.
I know.

On our tenth anniversary he gave me a diamond and
slit his wrists in the bathtub.


zen minokato
28
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