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Glass Kisses

In a room crowded with people. Hearing the children play and yell with unseen happiness. As the small-talk flutters through the air and the smiles seem to be smeared across all their faces. The disguised stares hidden through the room. The wind whispers secrets into your ear as you move motionless across the floor. I love to think of the lives hidden beneath the scurrying people, all the stories that no one seems to want to talk about, the secrets that lay under their skin…

 The big-shot executives kiss their wives so long and exchange love for lust. To walk into affairs slowly eating away at their “till death do us parts”.

The Barbie-doll wives kiss their husbands and return home to their passionate, sweet happiness in a bottle named “Merlot”.

The soccer-moms who kiss their children’s fore head and send them on their way. To drive into the dark asphalt landing and meet up with their “friends with benefits” in the back seat.

The children’s denying kisses on their mothers cheek as they run off to their so called “friends”. Who soon light up a road straight to hell. But how could they know what lies hidden inside the curled piece of paper lit and stuck between their lips.

The homeless who kiss their own hands for warmth. To come into a lucky man who drops him a twenty. Why buy food when your head screams for the sweet taste of crystal.

The super-models who kiss their sisters hello as they talk about their new and improved “diet”. For not even one to notice the tooth-brush hidden in her pocket and her “coincidence” bathroom break right after lunch.

The girl in black who kisses her father good-morning. To talk of so many subjects about school so that he would never think to check underneath her sleeve and find the scars deep imprinted in her skin.

The cheerleader who kisses her boyfriend for a good game and to stroll off under the bleachers and enter the passion another girls lips can bring.

The rock-out musician who kisses more girls in one night then he can count. Who drinks & smokes the memories of his long lost step-dad and the bruises upon his confidence as well as his skin.

The girly-girl daughter who kisses her mother and tells her all about her husband-to-be, perfect boyfriend. But forgets to mention the broken bones he inflicted upon her.

The soldier father so kisses his family so long as he goes off for war. To say that he’ll be back only to know that the only reason he’s going over there is to die with honor.

The grandmother who kisses her grandchildren as she bakes them goodies. For her daughter to never know that her kid’s cough isn’t the cold but grandma’s second-hand smoke.

The silence is broken between the thoughts as the party begins. My family gathers as they toast to another great year and the another great reunion. To say good-bye as their blank kisses are laid upon one another. As they stare into my eyes with their fake smiles and caress me with the chilling touch of the lips to my cheek, I wonder if they know all the secrets that lay hiding behind closed doors of each other. To know that each little perfect face is shattered by the deepening fact that they are all the same. To lie and pretend you care. To say you love someone, only to break their heart. To say you’re strong when you are so scared inside. To show affection that is so fake its almost plastic. To have that emotionless, perky happiness when you know all you’re giving to one another is pain. A kiss is more then an action. When a kiss becomes just an action, it becomes frozen in meaninglessness. It becomes…glass.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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