let us be lovers

He had been texting me all night
Said we were gonna go get ice cream, talk, get to know each other.
I didn't even know this guy, but that sounded way too normal, too normal for him anyway.

I was always doubtful of America. Always. It had nothing to do with American Spirit, it was the history of my whole life in the States that formed my fear, my hesitance of "falling for that." i've been there. i've been That girl. the sad, broken hooded girl with the tears, the mascara streaks, with HIS footprints still present on her skin, HE couldn't catch her teardrops, wish upon her stars, love her the way she needed. Neither of us could walk a straight line, nonetheless walk it together. So, like we all do, I went through the cycle a time too many. And now I was dizzy. I was not to be played a fool. I was not to be hurt. So I became the player, the ball in my court and I did what I pleased and became in charge. Quick enough I was numb; if someone had to get hurt, like the rules implied, it wouldn't be me.

so i set out on that rainy December California night, wipers full in motion and my guards up. i searched through the drizzle for the hitchhiker, that American Spirit (I had no idea what it would taste of} that would catch my drift and unexpectedly feed his soul to me.