Kike learned early in life how to stop horrible emotions. Loud arguments and yelling could be silenced. The Loud voices could fade. A glass of gin in her mothers hand. An elixir for heartbreak.

Her mother would shove the gin down her daughter’s throat. A mother’s love. She would do anything to teach her daughter numbness. Indifference. That the world would love her, hate her then leave her wounded. The world would occasionally visit and pierce open old wounds. No one was worth her heart.


Kike learnt too well. She learnt to light cigarettes with scented candles. To take shots of vodka that led straight to a stranger’s bed. Mostly married. Men with happy little families who wanted a taste of despair.


A girl wounded, heart still bleeding.

An unhappy girl, numb with scarlet lips.

Soft scarlet lips.

Forbidden fruit too sweet.


She would kiss each man with a different story. She became whoever they wanted her to be. This was her happiness, an actress in despair.


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