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Blood was her life, staining her knife
Blood on her thighs, covered with lies
His finger had lingered where none other had
And that’s one of many things that made her sad
She kissed him
She missed him
But deep inside
Something crawled
Something she brawled
  Jun 27 Cecilia Downing
She leans over the sink
weight on her toes
to applied lipstick
in quick certain strokes,
the way a man signs
his hundredth signature
of the morning.

With lips of convictionless curvature
as the lipstick retracted like a red eel
all day she left her mark
on everything she kissed.
Even the air remarks
like intoxicating news
whispered from ear to ear.

She pressed her hand against her chest to see if her heart was still there, beating. Sure enough, it was there, but it took a little while to feel it.
black fabric was the best choice
wishing they could hear her voice
through her earbuds she listened
it drowned out thoughts as her tears glistened
death was what she wanted
love was what she hunted
If her love was a story it’d be shaped with roses and thorns
Blood on her fingertips
Blood on her lips
Blood on her hips
All because of the cuts they left
But they were so pretty she thought she could trust them
Looks are deceiving
They all leave me bleeding
And maybe she would never learn
Not to touch the fire, it burns
she sat in the kitchen floor
wishing she hadn’t said anything more
she knew it was coming
but she didn’t expect him to leave so soon
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