Her

She has always been an object, a commodity to the world, nothing else, and nothing more. When I looked at the world, the world told me that what I believed in was right. I looked at them; even they told me we were nothing but objects. How can my view be wrong when the whole world tells me I am doing the right thing, saying the right thing to her?

She was never more than me; she was nothing, an entity made for pleasure. Just nothing but pleasure and I saw her as that and nothing more. An entity that would sit around the corner to bring the best for me. In a dark room with no windows, she would be the light to guide me through life, and I let her become that.

I allowed that to happen; deep down, I could tell people are more than they appear to others. But for some reason, she was allowed to be the person I made it in my head. I wanted the answers to be different, but everybody else uttered the same word, sang the same old song, and told me I was right. I was right to make her as I wanted to be, a clay that I could use to make any form; I did exactly that to her without facing any pushback.

I never noticed her eyes; I never did; I always looked at her body. From head to toe, the only thing that mattered to me. I looked at others for answers; they all said the same thing, look at their bodies and neglect everything else. I believe they used the word — Disposable a lot when talking about her.

The word disposable hit me like a train, not that it was disgusting, but the word came from a woman like her. There she was in the corner, a disposable flesh for me to scar. The air felt thicker; the rain felt wetter, my mind became numb, and my hands were dirty.

I couldn’t believe what was happening to me; it was like the whole world had become different than how I made it in my head. Out of a sudden, everything weighs more than before.

I tried saying her name, but the words wouldn’t get out of my mouth. I tried yelling her name, but my tongue didn’t allow me to. I tried touching her flesh, but my hand didn’t let me do that. I tried holding her hand, but I couldn’t get my hand around her arm.

I tried to carcass her flesh, but I couldn’t feel anything. I tried lifting her body, but I couldn’t carry her weight.

I had one last hope, I tried opening her eyes, but she didn’t open.