You slip from the bed,
Remove the gauze, pull on your long johns
Jumper and coat
And the sutures on my heart begin to itch
Grab your keys, head for the door
I'm running, but I don't know what I'm running for,
Hear the rumble of your truck's engine
Beating on the wood, the brass doorknob won't turn
Why do I know you're leaving?
Through the fogged up window I can see your exhaust
But it's not processing so I lay my head against the floor
Well it's 2am so don't give me a reason
Just wish I'd gotten there before
I just have to go back to our bedroom, just to be sure

I lay on stained mattresses amidst oil paintings and mirrors
Lattice veils of mascara run down my pallor cheeks
As I stare down at the blood pooling in my outstretched hand
Reflections stare down at me, winged ******* and soldiers
All eyes across the room staring down with me, to the checkered floor
My pale pink toes brush the tile, the soles black smudging the gloss
White, blaring, chandeliers above, candelabras with jeweled adornments
Gracefully falling downwards like tears, my own indenting upon satin sheets
Wrapped tight around my legs, falling loose around my shoulders
Caping me, hanging open at my ******* bruised and swollen
Though I've no babe, and so, I clench my eyes against the staring
Chiding me, beguiling me, burned in behind my eyelids there,
you. are.
Whispering like chiffon, along with the fabric of my dress beneath your manicured fingernails
Tracing the edges of my gooseflesh and regaling me with tales of woe
and wonder, of the conquests of art, fine frames and fantastic auctions
Our freedom, held capricious on the winds of chance, before
Now love, our love, your love, provided such an opportunity, a chance to fly away
This you mumbled to my neck with adoring kisses
as relieving as fresh rain against my skin, hands tuning the zipper along my back to play such a fine melody like a phonograph
A pretty thing, to be molded by such hands, with as much regard as handling a Monet painting

I see it clearly after all

The merry go round sailed around on its rusty, squealing hinges. I could feel the chipped paint beneath my fingers over the metal bars serving as handle holds. The platform ridged to better stay on. My old friend swung into view among the blurring trees and swing set. He looked aged, weathered, with his unruly hair sticking in places by sweat and the light rain that had begun. It needed to be cut back above his ears. Though this way I could braid it, or let it curl around my fingers.
My laugh rang out against the cloudy playground as I went around one more time. His answered, a lofty, deep-set sound. I could hear his shoes squelch in the muddy rut around the merry go round. It wasn’t going as fast as I felt it was, but I couldn’t care less. Watching the muscles of his arms heave it before he began in a run and hopped on gave me a high. To me, we were flying. We could be superglued here forever and I’d never care. Even as my shirt began to cling as the weather worsened.
Then the weight of his sudden landing brought the contraption to lurch, then slow, and we fell as a heap on its side. “Just one more time!” I remember pleading between breaths, his heavy and gaping. His green eyes flashed, incredulous at the idea.
“It’s your turn!” he bellowed. Though we both knew I hadn’t the strength to turn it, much less with him on it. My stomach was starting to flop even as I thought about giving it a go.

I ******* let you in
And together we burned everything

i am the girls you haven’t kissed
the patch of skin below your wrist
i am the sky dark before dawn
your hair before you cut it, blonde and long
i am your neighbors window, a grocery bag
i am the best and the worst thing you’ve never had

you’ll dream of me as soon as i leave
i’ll pretend i don’t know that you watched me sleep
whispered my name, it was almost noon
wiped my eyes and swallowed the moon
thought about you on the train ride home
i’m not allowed to love you, i’ll leave you alone