Read Online A Girl Is a Half-Formed Thing by Eimear McBride - Free Book Online

did not know would be. Fill my mouth with it. He says. Open your eyes. Is this the first kiss you’ve had at all? Flexed and on a wire I’m. He knows something I don’t. About me. That I am naïve. Do that. Don’t do that to me. I. Feel I might begin to cry or sink or fall. I want. I want. I cannot say. I’m almost. Ready or not. Got to leave. Don’t be angry with me he says. I’m very very honoured. He touch my face. Kiss me again. And I touch his cheek. I touch his chin. I know now. What it feels. That mouth. His stubble. Grating. Think of cheese and not my skin blooming rashes. But it does red and pink alive and specially for me. The burn of it. That smell. That deep in his neck like warm and rich and far away. Like memory I might have had. Will make from this. Have made. And sound of kisses I did not know. Lapping. Thinking me of being at the shore and breaths like breeze going over my head. He tasted. I don’t know of coffee. Right. He tasted like dinner. Like something deep.
    But I am waiting for. Something with his mouth on mine. Something touching down below. There’s not. He not. I am what I should do? My hand. On his trousers. I feel. What. Stroke. He breathed out. No! Not for me he says. I stop that. I am not. I go red. I’m not that man. And I’m ashamed to have. What he did not want. But his hand on my chest no my breast. He says that’s enough. For me? I am scalded. For me he says and too much. I am. I. Stand up peel the skirt from off my legs. The back of is stuck there. I’m clammy sweat. And legs are wrong. Excused and dismissed. What I say is You fuck off.
    This night is a restless night. Turning in my head the. Wish I could tell you until the morning came.
     
    Come running by the lake. Fall down. I am almost too old for that I should be smoking drinking now. Taking hands up my jumper. Fingers down my skirt. I should be. I should be. I am not. Yet. I stand there. Eyes mist to the wind feel the fresh rush past. Up my nose. That sting. That new day it’s so early in the morning. I see the white and clear. Rising up of the waters. Running round my feet. My gravel feet. My earthbound feet that feel the sway of it. Water. Of the world that’s changing now no changed. It’s changed and this is looking back. The past a flash front. That mix. Knowing what how I should do be say. That’s going up. That flock of geese is rising. Rising to make all the noises. Honk like cars and wings beat hard on the air. Battering it. Cutting it down. They’re going up and up. Feathers and fat young breasts rise and rise above me. I see. I see clear. And the trees there, glassing the water making it jump in go under. Temptation for the tips of my fingers. For the soles of my feet. I step there. Cool and cold and colder. Outside the leather. Coming in over my white socks. Feel it rising. Catch my ankles. Send me tremors. Send me shivers. I know what I’m doing. Mud suckering round my toes. If I stand. Still. The reeds glass bend a little. Shiver winter. There’s a soft cold breeze. I search the quiet out for footsteps. For the armies. Coming. To slither under water here with me. Those spirits smell and see them I do in my sleep. In dreams of all the things that in my life will come to me. Take hold. I fear not. Hear not. See not. Feel the rap on my knuckles of the water going in. It soak my coat up. Up my leg up. Feel it there inside my thigh. So cold. So ice and glass and see though things and friendly hands. Between my secret tight shut legs the water. Lurking brownly seep inside me. Drag me down. I do not. I know not. I know not what I do. It is not that. It is not drowning I have come for. Not for death or any other violent thing that I could do to myself. I am here this hour for. Storage I think. Cleaning and cold storage. I will gush myself out between my legs. Whoever let the poison in. The dirt retreat. The thing I want I should not get. I’ll put my head in for discreet baptise. It makes me want to, feel