ljfiction's Journal

Got a tattoo on her heart: Chapter One....
He wouldn't call what he did to her fucking. Calling it fucking would imply that it was comfortable. The way they moved against each other. The awkwardness in the position switching. The bored look in his eyes. Until he saw me. standing in the bushes outside his bedroom window. my dick in my hand. peeping tom. pervert. thrill seeker. drunk. idiot. me. As soon as we made eye contact i took off running. a block and a half before i stopped to zip up. ducked around a corner i tucked my dick away and lit a cigarette. my desire to avoid a confrontation halted by a cigarette. i took a few drags catching my breath before my mind caught up with my actions. i couldn't hear anyone following me. no footsteps. heavy breathing. cursing. yelling and screaming. no cause for panic. so, i don't. instead i take another swig off of the fifth i've been carry in my bag. it simplifies my train of thought. less wondering and worrying. more acting and believing. i flick my cigarette into the street. it bounces. the sparks are fireworks to me. my drunken stumble up the street a celebration. it's not everyday that i feel good. i like the feeling of getting away with something. Watching them go at it got me hard. it made me feel shameful and dirty all at once. it gave me meaning. very short term meaning, but still it was something.

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