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She's sleeping next to me, glossy drool at her lip. I lean into her and her body immediately melts and molds into mine.

She's dancing in a dark club, lasers flashing and bass thumping. Her wild mane ripples as she throws her head back.

She steps out of the shower, her statuesque form slick with steam, cheeks glowing and flushed. Eyes glistening, her ravishing little lips smile up at me.

If heaven exists I am already there in the presence of an angel.

My freckled masterpiece.
My 5"3 munchkin towering over my 5 and a half feet.
My tour guide to wonderous paradise.

My heaven is snipping **** out of your cats ******* hairs while you hold her down.
It's watching each other kiss cute girls at our work Christmas party and high-fiving each other about it in bed later that night.
It's you following me to the bathroom to watch me ***.
It's you helping me pick the perfect Christmas tree in my manic festive whirlwind when you just worked a double.
Heaven is you acting impressed watching my little spaghetti arms curl a 5lb weight.

The only afterlife I need is rolling around your living room floor giggling for hours till you *** into your socks and we fight over who has to do the laundry.
am used to sleeping alone.
So when this body,
weighed with the suspension of consciousness
elbows you in the nose,
the voice box in this dry,
hoarse throat,
groggily snarling words that are not mine, telling you to
"**** right off",
do not take it personally.
Know that despite my flailing,
kicking limbs,
there is no one in this universe I'd rather wrap my legs around,
no ones chest I'd rather rest my head upon,
no one's sweet, steady breath I'd rather lull me to sleep.
Cause i've had years of lurching upright with a gunshot gasp,
sweating and rocking
to calm my rapid clambering heart,
trying to dispel the memory of dismembered parts protruding from bucket,
crimson blood sloshing,
him staggering after me in the moonlight.
My heart frenetic,
shivering away the rattling hailstones.
But with you in them,
baby, my sheets are warm.
My ear against your breast hears your heart beat pound away the nightmares that have plagued me night after
night after
pounding like "There is no room for you in her head,
there is no room in this bed for anything but syrupy sweet sighs and silky soft snores."
They don't dare creep back beneath my pillow case.
Maybe, someday, I'll get better at this.
But if 10 years from now,
you wake with my freckled back turned to you,
pressed far away as possible in my little twin bed,
know the second my eyes flutter awake,
I will crawl back into your arms.
Eyes flutter, gaze meets hers, lips curl to shy smiles.
2. Crack toes, ankles, knees, elbows, knuckles, stretchhhh toward light filtering through curtain.
3. Soft kisses trace down satin body, quivering sighs, drinking in warm, sweet juices.
4. Brisk November breezes on the stoop, shared cigarette, smoke curling through crisp air, leaves leaping twirl down the sidewalk.
5. Coffee brewing, fruit chopped, chatter through necturus bites.
6. Her hair tickling my neck, goodbye embraces. Another day in paradise.
Lurch upright with a gunshot gasp.
2. Calm your rapid clambering heart.
3. Try not to think of the dismembered parts protruding from bucket, blood sloshing, him staggering after you in the moonlight.
4. Flick, flick, flickflame inhale rat poisoning, tar, carbon monoxide, throat thick head spinning.
5. Reheat black coffee, sour battery acid spilling into your empty stomach.
6. Avoid mirrors reflecting dead bloodshot eyes, smear face cake carelessly.
7. Already late for work, bus pass, name tag, cancer sticks, shuffle out the door. Another day in paradise.
Scratchy seat, tight shoes, full bladder.
I am 7 years old, it is Sunday,

and I am afraid of my mother.

I look up from my coloring book, now salt water stained, to find the source.
She rocks
eyes shut tears slowly streaming,
splashing on my masterpiece-
Jesus nailed ****** to the cross, sporting hot pink lipstick,
****** blue eye shadow.
Her lips savagely spit out serpentine whispers,
sinister alien tongue I can't decipher.
Glacial dread seeps through my veins,
horripilation crawling up my back.

I do not know this woman.

Crayons, jump rope, stickers, and paper dolls ignite into flames as I glance around me.
Muttering hisses,
demonic breaths
echo wall to wall in this
"House Of God".
Brothers and sisters mutate to strangers,
bodies hosts to malignant beast before my wide, child eyes. Dry cracked palm upon foreheads of those beneath him, brother Tom's eyes curl back,
voicebellowing psychotic prattle I could not mimic for the life of me.
The diseased,
weak sinners cower,

actually bow down before JesusTomChrist,

eyes gleaming hopeless, seeking forgiveness,
Dry cracked palm gestures towards collection plate.

— The End —