Honesty

I stripped myself bare, yesterday. I removed my clothes and left them in a heap on the floor, and when they failed to get a reaction out of you, I took it one step further. I dug my nails into my skull, where the hairline ends, and sliced across my forehead. My fingers slipped easily under my skin; small amounts of blood oozed out to lubricate the process. I pulled my skin free from my body, and held myself naked for you.

You glanced at me casually, quickly, without concern. Your eyes barely flickered at the sight of my raw flesh. I spread my arms and turned, allowing you to see all of me. Your eyes lingered for a moment on my chest and my heart beat faster. A puddle of blood surrounded me, isolating me.

For several moments I exposed myself to you, and you never said a word. It wasn’t until much later, when I grew cold, that I realized I didn’t know how to cover myself up again.