She loves boys. They are her weakness. The love they give her makes her feel whole. Complete. But there is always something wrong for each new guy she's with.So she finds those flaws and waits for them to wash away like shirts in a washing machine. She finds a new guy to wear around, and when she notices the color is all wrong or the stitching is coming undone, she washes them. She goes back to her old boyfriend, newly washed and clean and wears him and washes him, changing boyfriends every other day. But then she notices none of her shirts fit, the color is gone, that her boyfriends are worn out. So she throws them in the trash and gets new shirts. The non-suspecting guys see through her flaws and keep coming back, not knowing that it's also changing them. They can't leave her, and they don't know why, and she washes them and then puts them in her closet for safe keeping. And when it's time for a new boyfriend, they show her the color the perfect stitches. And she takes them back willingly until they get old, and it starts all over. She washes her boyfriends, and they don't get it. They are changing just as much as she is, until they are nothing at all. Just ruined and small t-shirts that she outgrows. And the boyfriends are left on hangers in the closet, waiting to be worn until they must be cleaned again.
March 14, 2010