Why Did I Make You Breakfast In The Morning?

A boy with a chiseled chin and chocolate skin and Asian eyes let me sit on his lap one time at a game, where my tongue probably tasted like watermelon and rubbing alcohol, and the glittery cardinal and gold tattoo on my cheek tried to rub off on his but ended up on my ecru-colored pillow instead.

You were standing in the hallway and I was leaning, eyes and chest dripping red all over your fitted cap and fitted tee and fitted chest that didn’t, couldn’t get unfit or loose like a limp tie around a flabby neck. Clothes became insignificancies, peeling away like cotton candy-colored nail polish, or the tacky wallpaper printed on ceilings, walls, baseboards and backsplashes to cover up oil stains and misappropriated disappointments. Anyway… You opened your door for me and all I could do was smile at your chiseled chin and your Asian eyes… maybe that was because my eyes were equally Asian, from the watermelon and the rubbing alcohol. Or maybe it was because what I saw in you was something I couldn’t wait to forget about myself; squinting made it more friendly. I unlocked the front door and you stretched all 6 feet and some odd inches of sinewy, undeniably delicious disillusionment across my lavender bedspread as I sparked the green and exhaled languidly like Mr. Caterpillar tripping over his words and reclining amongst the comforts of his mind. Back, and forth, and back, and forth we passed it until our brains boarded a carousel of synchronicity with three silly letters holding its hand as it spun around and around. Our tongues and limbs, bound by the seductive curve of the “S”, the comfort and familiarity of the “E”, and the heavy weight of the “X”, came together like knots in a daisy chain around this little girl’s little wrist.

Help me to understand why I made breakfast for you that morning. Sure, your eyes were Asian and your chin was chiseled and your skin was sweet like mine, with maybe a bit more cocoa, but your sword wasn’t very sharp and your aim wasn’t very swift. Your hands didn’t weave stories around my thighs like the best storytellers know how to do. Instead, they ran a race they couldn’t wait to finish because of heavy, impeccably timed fatigue. Your eyes never met mine, lips barely met mine, smile wouldn’t meet mine, soul couldn’t meet mine. And as my hand, wrist and arm worked in perfect coordination with the spatula, flipping yellowing, dripping yolks in a hot pan while your 6 feet and some odd inches did God knows what underneath my lavender bedspread, the eyes in the back of my head seethed and sighed a heavy moan and groan all too similar to the ones they had whispered suns and moons ago.

All I want is a thank you for the money, a thank you for the time spent (my wallet is looking a bit empty now), a thank you for putting up with the grit and the grime that she left all over your insides, a thank you for dick sucking with my head in the palm of your hand like a worn basketball, as you left your nasty little secrets all over my hot pink sports bra, and a thank you for being someone who never asked for anything but just to sit on your lap and smile at your Asian eyes and chiseled chin.

A thank you for the eggs would be nice, too. TC mark

image – rob_rob2001

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  • Anonymous

    “Or maybe it was because what I saw in you was something I couldn’t wait to forget about myself” 

    Nice. Very nice.

  • girl

    too wordy

    • guest

      rite??

    • Anonymous

      I think its not too wordy, its just not casual and thats fine

  • guest

    idk i kinda got lost in your words, had to shake my head and start the sentence over a few times. 

    but, maybe it’s too late and i should go to bed. 

  • guest

    “…my eyes were equally Asian, from the watermelon and the rubbing alcohol”… Really??

    • Guies

      I was gonna say the exact same thing. Like, maybe I could get into the writing style if it wasn’t for the whole “omg I just saw a real live cHiNAmAN!!” vibe

  • http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=704016484 Joe Ott

    as you left your nasty little secrets all over my hot pink sports bra
    Well, no thank you if your not going to swallow.  No that was bad joke. This is a well written article, perhaps not in spite but because it positively drips with naiveté. 

  • Ellen

    Do you do slam poetry? God this would be an amazing piece if it were performed.

  • Na Latte

    Get it that u r trying to emphasize that he is Asian but the eyes… Too repetitive I reckon

  • http://pulse.yahoo.com/_5WQXSSKAMOU4WCHKCWYMUKKKNU Aladin Sane

    That’s why you stock up on Pop-Tarts, girl. Bad Lay? He Hungry? Throw him a brown sugar and cinammon, untoasted, and tell him to get the fuck out

    • Kennneth Gibson

      shit girl, that’s being generous. 

    • CausticWit

      This comment made this terrible article worthwhile.

  • http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=612928768 Samie Rose

    So, wait, I just want to clarify.. this guy had Asian eyes and a chiseled chin, right?

    • Maggie

      haha sweet

  • http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1363230138 Michael Koh

    Shit, why don’t you just write “Chink”?

  • rach

    what the fuck

  • macgyver51

    Do college newspapers not have sex columns anymore for people to go peddle this stuff?

  • http://www.nosexcity.com NoSexCity

    Just could not get into this. The amazing word choice felt like more of a hindrance than a help to the actual story.

  • rwolfe

    It’s geniune, it drips and oozes down the screen the way that a painful story does as, as it slips, sickeningly down that space in your head. Please write more.

  • Swhudf

    this is just bad.

    • Autumnbanter

      It reeks of trying too hard and the writing is really bad.

  • Heather Inc

    Yikes

  • yikes

    Whoa this was awful

  • Joy Jalapolis

    Pop tarts is right! I liked your writing style.  And remember not to cook for a man unless he really deserves it.  So screw the fully-made breakfast and keep it to cereal or something easy.

  • N.

    I don’t mean to be harsh but the imagery in this piece comes across forced and clunky. It’s obvious that you understand the mechanics of writing and I understand the term is ‘creative’ writing but my advice would be to take a step back and just trying writing for awhile. I would even recommend taking this piece back to start and just telling the story as it went down, being honest about the events and your feelings without attempting to spice it up and see what you have. Eventually, you’ll find a creative rhythm and you won’t have to try so hard. You’ll be a better writer for it. Kudos for the effort, you obviously put some thought in here.

  • Gildederrun

    I see what you were going for there. But honestly, it didn’t flow the way you must have intended it to. And while I liked the imagery and the repetition, I felt that they were utilized rather awkwardly.

  • Taylor

    Why do any of you bother reading the things on this site if you know all you want to do is make fun of the author? I thoroughly enjoyed it, by the way, so fuck off.

    • writer

      some of the comments are are just constructive criticism.  there’s nothing wrong with that.  blatently hating something is stupid, but actually leaving a real opinion is actually pretty cool.  

  • http://twitter.com/mung_beans Mung Beans

    five mentions of Asian eyes

  • CarmenOhio

    We get it – you slept with a short Alaskan with light skin and big, bright eyes and he made you eggs.

  • Not Cool

    “Asian eyes” really enforces the homogeneity of the the writers on this site. Did you really think only insensitive white people read this site? Whatever your intent, I’m still offended. 

  • http://www.facebook.com/ubeda Joant Ubeda

    So is the point not to sleep with dudes that are 6’something”, have chiseled chins, asian eyes, dark skin, and not so sharp swords?

    Anyway, I’m playing Zelda and I just got the Master Sword. That’s definitely sharp.

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