“What if my heart just stopped?” She asked, her eyes rolling back in her head. Then he shook her to life and said, “That’s impossible while I’m around.”
Every single morning, she heard the saw blades, she grew more resentful till they were no longer cutting metal but flesh. And she laughed. And she didn’t stop till every single tear shed was red.
I can see him out my window. Not with my eyes. But he’s there. He makes the air taste sticky like Tootsie Roll Pops. I lick my lips and I feel him on my shoulder. I close my eyes. My hand slowly sliding under my skirt. Then I feel the bite.
It’s the last thing I feel.
I guess it won’t be easy letting you go. I say to no one in particular as I point at a dust bunny that is playfully licking itself.
So don’t. He says, hugging me tightly.
I fall into his adverbs, because they’re easy.
Lovingly. Longingly. Beautifully.
He plays guitar and my favorite part isn’t the music. It’s his expression when he gets it. When he figures it out. When he puts the guitar pick in his mouth and holds it there. His lips. I can’t stop thinking about his lips. The way he holds my bottom lip between his teeth. Nearly pain. Mostly pleasure.
The way he asks. No, the way he coyly demands me to remove my clothes for him.
What if I don’t?
I’ll punish you, he says, smiling.
Grinning, I do what he commands. I’m his. I don’t want to fight it.
His lips on my mouth. His hands on my hips. Grasping tightly. Again and again and again.
I fall into his trap. His eyes are pools. I sink. It’s hopeless. I’m trapped under this thing called love.
There is nothing to do but accept it and move on, hand in hand.
there was him & him & him
all boring names
with boring jobs
and chapped lips
but we kissed and fucked
like it was no big deal
and it wasn’t
so we moved on
then I found you
and we kissed
and held hands
and I thought twice before giving in
but I did anyways
because I’m that kind of girl
But you stayed
and I stayed
and I hope you never leave
because you’re that kind of boy
and I want to be that kind of girl
Beth could barely breathe. Her ghosts filled her lungs and she coughed ash. Her ears whispered the sounds of waves. Her feet felt cold and her toes turned black. Her fingers were gnarled and she knew it was time to let go.
"I’ll be there soon, Henry. I’ll be there soon."
She died with her eyes open.
Danny’s eyes were blank. He stared at something on the wall, but nothing was there but peeling paint. He had been sitting in that same chair doing nothing for three days.
His mother shoveled baby food into his mouth, but most of it ended up on his shirt.
It was embarrassing. He was 27 and Danny had gone completely mental.
It was time to call the authorities.
"Danny, dear…what’s wrong? Tell your Mum, please." She shook him till his head went floppy, but as soon as she stopped, he looked on.
Frustrated, she threw the spoon and glass jar at the ground.
"Now look at what you made me do!"
But instead of kneeling on the ground to clean it up, she walked away sobbing.
A tear rolled down Danny’s cheek, waking him from his stupor, but his mouth dribbled incoherent words. So he kept quiet as he picked the glass from the ground. He had an urge to lick the floor clean, but instead removed his shirt and mopped up his mess.
Shirtless, he stepped out of the door, running barefoot through the front yard. The blades of grass tickled his toes, but he didn’t stop to enjoy it. An ambulance was coming and he lunged for the speeding vehicle like it would save him.
She dipped her finger into the pie filling and asked, “Would you like a taste?”
When I fall, I don’t look back. I lay in the dust under your bed and listen to your secrets. When I move, I trip you up in front of your crush.
You’ll never catch me, because I’m just a puff of air.
I’m your worst self. The black abyss of your imagination. Stop feeding me and I’ll stop growing.