She wore a tight short skirt over silky tights, the see through kind that leaves you nowhere but hanging for more. She was all black from her puffy cardigan to her very dark blue shoes.
She looked great because she had long long legs. But little did She know about the functioning of her that night.
It started out dry, comforting in a way as she stuck another vegetable down her throat. There were 10 people maybe 15 at a time, coming and going while maintaining a kind of quiet that needed so the neighbors wont flip.
Her hair was nice that night and she gave an extra minute to completing her make up. She was swell. She really was.

And the night didnt show any signs when the 4th shot started kicking  in, She was amused with its wonders. She has never been under it, she planned it, fearfully, she was under control.
She kept the name of her valentine like a grudge and even when he changed' under it', and a flow of red jealousy washed her long cold legs She didnt even grimace or make a face. When he wanted some other girl, She didnt say a thing, there was nothing to say, it didnt hurt, just like a mosquito bite, to say the truth.

The three of them, the for if you are including the ghost of She, sat behind a parked car behind the gate that made her realize that she had reached the under it. they were pursing lips together and when She sat down amazed a girl gaveher the cigarette so She could do the same, transmit smoke to her. She said no.
But then she agreed and the girls bonded in a lip locking motion that didn't involve the nastiness of the tongue.
And then She saw him and her doing the same and she thought they were kissing even though that girl asked him to forget about the tongue. The third person, another guy, wanted Her to do the same with him. She said no. But then she agreed. It was forced on her. And then there was tongue and she pulled away and said without the tongue,please. And he held her.

And she doesnt recall the whole thing she knows parts of it. The rythem of his tongue, the way he felt up and down her ghost. The way she hated herself afterwards. The regret versus the sweetness of his cheating hold. He didnt like her, not much, not even a little not even at all.
She is kind of through now, with boys and friends and birthdays and things that have an edgy strong smell to them. She is "swell".




I hope she will get over it, soon.