Unreal

I glance in the mirror and despise what I see. The outer edges of my body seem like a blur with no definite line. I wrap my arms gently around my frame as if I'm potentially trying to hold myself together. I don't seem real anymore, in fact, nothing seems real. I begin to live my life over my shoulder. One turn of the head leads to another and I'm constantly wondering what perceptions of myself are being portrayed. Are they looking at me and why? Are they talking about me and why? I'm walking through life with a sticky note on my back asking for someone to kick me. I must be doing something wrong. It's almost as if I see myself in third person, but then again, I always have. Every vivid recollection and every dream I see unto myself as if I were not myself. That night in the jeep, I don't remember by just looking at him on top of me, but rather as an outsider looking in - looking in on innocent infatuation becoming statutory and curiosity becoming perpetuating fear. Looking in on a girl who was frozen in the consternation of the abuse. I see her focusing deeply on something way beyond her tear stricken, green eyes. I follow the angle of her stare and see she is concentrating on the bright full moon - she is studying its form, every intricate detail. She believes if she stares hard enough maybe the man in the moon will come and save her in her trance. It's all she could do to keep from losing her mental capacity and going into a state of trauma which was well on its way. She tries to drown out the whispers, begs, and moans, to decrement reality and find something more euphonious to the ear. The moon symbolizes wholeness and strength, but also passivity. It's done and over with, he finally listened and is going to take her back to her friends house. He drops her off and makes a comment regarding what just took place. He asks her to not become attached and that this abuse had no feeling behind it. She simply nods, heartbroken, awestricken and enters her friends home. It's early the next morning, about 2 a.m. and she finds her friends sound asleep - comfortable…. warm…. happy…. safe. They share the bed and she lays on the floor. She wraps a blanket around her cold, used legs and sinks her head into her pillow. She listens to the snores of her friends' and see's the light of the moon shining through the blinds of the nearest window. More tears fall as silent raindrops, hitting the warm concrete and creating an aroma so profound to the human senses. It seems so unreal. In the morning, she arises with a smile and departs for her home. She stands in front of the mirror and hates what she sees. She feels dirty, weak, and repulsive. She wraps her arms around her body to contain herself from falling apart. She holds herself tightly but little is she aware, the self inflicted scars upon her body, are the very cracks she's falling through.