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 Dec 2013 Fiona Mae
CrowesMuse
"You killed a man"
They say over and over
In his head
"You killed a man."
They repeat to him
Until he knows they cannot
Be wrong.

He walks the streets
wondering if the eyes that glance him over
while they walk on by
know that on average
a person walks past a murderer
36 times
in their life.
"You killed a man"
He expects one of them to scream.

She is different
He knows this from they day they first meet
The voices go quiet
Almost allowing him to sleep.

He takes her on dates,
tells her
his hopes and dreams
though it is not until the night
they decide to combine their resources
in a cramped damp apartment
with a view of the sunset against the skyline
that he decides to tell her
the words that once were on
replay
inside his mind.

"I killed a man."
He whispers to her.
His voice bright
In direct contrast to the darkness
of the night.

As his hands tap the covers
Twice then once then twice again.

Her eyes caress him,
touching him in ways he knows can not be done
with hands
as he repeats
"I killed a man."
His eyes fixed on the ceiling,
Counting the tiles
To be sure
that 101
has not changed to 102
and the stain in the 81'st hasn't shifted to 22'nd.

He jumps at the feeling of her touch

Voice sharp
Hands soft.
"Tell me."
The demand
so quiet
he wonders if it was just the sound
of settling dust.

He turns to her,
Finds the question in her eyes.
It's a drastic change
from the haunted look he expected
if only to reflect
what he sees in the mirror every day.

"I killed a man." He says once again,
For the millionth time in his life
though only
the third
outside of his head.

Her fingers trace his face.
Thumb running across his lips.
She opens her mouth,
and quietly whispers the words he never dared to
even consider a possibility

"They were wrong."
2.0 - the alternate ending.
the last time we
****** was pumped
with passion and
there was an extra
flavor there that I
am now proud to
admit was
              awkward.

You pulled your laptop
into the bathroom
and the picture was
so blurry that
I couldn't really
tell if you were
biting your lip
or grinning
insanely.
I was twisting
uncomfortably
in my bed,
trying to pose in a
way that didn't
feel as though
my legs would go numb
and drop off my
hips in ****** apendages
but that also
didn't cause my stomach
rolls to emerge
in a way that
suggested I could
be popped into
an oven and devoured.

The time before that,
We were ******* each other
goodbye. There were
black make- up stains
on your dorm room
pillow and some mixed
smells of regret and
my **** juice. You tried
to reassure me that
we'd stay in touch-
that you would *******
call. I promised I
would try to feel better
about the situation

but promises are
meant to be broken,
especially if they're made
by 2 ex-lovers at
four in the morning.

The time before that
was make-up ***.
I never told you this,
but I wasn't really
sorry. I
think I needed to
get ****** by that
other guy
    to prove to myself
that I was worth
fighting for.
(Besides, it's
not like you and I
were still together.)

The time before
that was on a Tuesday
before we had to
go to class.
(I always sat in front
of you, and we
would pretend that
the other didn't exist-
but your deep voice
sweeping the floor behind me
made it very difficult)
I remember
smelling your armpit
on my hand, and
wondering why that smell
got me so excited.

The time before that,
we both begged the
other to make love
to our sweet aching
lonely bodies while,
outside, the kids were
smoking *** and laughing.
My hands burned like
hellfire against the
back of your neck
and that sweet
melancholy sensation
and questions formed
inbetween our teeth
Do you still love me
        what will this
look like, come tomorrow?


Then, the time
before that, I
was ******* you
while alone in the
privacy of my room
(you were asleep in your bed, I'm sure)

I sobbed,
tugging at my *******
in a frenzy,
plunging into myself
so hard that the
next morning, I was
sore when I sat
down. The way
I imagined you inside
of me, back home
again which I guess,
at that point, is
where I thought
you belonged.
But now, I guess
I'm not so
                sure


The time before
that, we
were falling apart
and we both
knew it. I
think I lay numb,
underneath you,
going through the motions
thinking Thank God for
muscle memory. Without
it, I would be as
much of a robot on the
outside as I
felt on the inside.
And that would be
a ****** way for you
to find out that
I didn't love you
        anymore.

The time before that,
we were drunk
you asked me
a thousand times if
I was sure I wanted
to. You even made me
promise I wouldn't regret
it in the morning.
But promises are made
to be broken, especially
if they are made by
two drunk lovers at
four in the
morning.


The time before that,
we were in your
back yard.
The moon shone down
on us through the
willow branches.
I heard crickets.
  Just the right
amount of tipsy
   both of us pulled
our pants down
past our hips,
     you placed your
hoodie under my
***. I breathed in
the smell of your neck
I pulled you so close
I could swear our bodies
were going to melt
into each other

and the time
before that

was in the morning on
a saturday
         I kissed you
softly awake, pressed up
against your hot
skin under the covers
I swore I loved you

              and the thing
I have so far failed to mention

                   is that I
                           still do
 Dec 2013 Fiona Mae
Kay-Ann
you.
 Dec 2013 Fiona Mae
Kay-Ann
I will never really understand why I cant leave you alone
what is it about you that is so addictive ?
i know I shouldnt be with you yet I came back
you're no good but I came back
you betrayed me but I still came back
but why? why am I coming back?
maybe its the way our bodies collided like two fine ships
beautiful but ending in doom , sinking like the Titanic
and the mighty waters leaving me vulnerable to whatever
your waves had planned for me
or maybe its way our kisses like diseases
infected the other with a jolt of regret and absolute pleasure
why do we always crave for the ones who are no good for us ?
i guess you're my cigarette
i pull you out of that dark , black box
and light you up when Im cold
keep you on my lips and inhale you
even though I know how toxic you are and can be
but i dont care
cause i love that feeling in my lungs
you're like alcohol too
so tempting and tantalizing on the lips
i get a lovely burning sensation as it sinks in
but i dont care
cause that feeling is heavenly
i shouldnt be here with you
lying on the bed drunk off each other's passion
you destroyed me once and I let you
you're gonna destroy me again and Im gonna let you
 Dec 2013 Fiona Mae
Brianna
Looking back I found there wasn't much I could do to get through to you.
It could have been your constant bickering or need to be better than me.... I'm not quite sure.
You picked me up so easily in your Arms I slid down your waist to kiss your lips as you smirked... I hated that smirk.
We got drunk off cheap whiskey and red lipstick.
Looking back things were so silly but we were too drunk to notice that you were too rude and I had to much pride.
It could have been your lack of lust or my lack of trust I can't remember these days.
You led me on so easily it was like a list child looking for their mom I went willingly.
We got faded off cheap bud and sour smiles.
I guess looking back I didn't notice your emptiness that couldn't be filled with ***.
 Dec 2013 Fiona Mae
drumhound
She walks the rails

Infinite steel beams
dwindle to absence
long down the horizon
between soot-painted trees,
into open skies,
and the desire to go wherever it ends...
or doesn’t (mercifully).

She walks the rails

Begging to God,
or Madonna,
or the unrecognizable critter
severed on the tracks,
that the scabs of her bad decisions
stay in the past...
as she rips them off
in a gallop to get away.

She runs the rails

In terror,
that whatever has haunted her
will catch up.
For anything ahead
no matter how unidentifiable
is better than
the hell that clearly is.

She screams down the rails

Attempting to scare
fear into submission,
attenuating the volume
to beat back
the throng
of demonic voices telling her
she cannot break free.

She stops on the rails

Her eyes recoil through a blur
and sees the vision.
Puffy lips dripping of sorrow
curl toward heaven in a blubbering smile
involuntarily she laughs
unrestrained
audacious...
and stretches out her arms
to greet the angel of light.

She stains the rails....
 Dec 2013 Fiona Mae
JayJay
In the fraction of a second
How could this Fracture of a sentence
Make a difference
You and I, we were gold but this
Plot twist between us is
Shifty at best and
Who’s to say it wasn't always this way
When the World isn’t always as it seems and this
Life was all a dream you and me
We coulda had it all
Live forever? Time we shall stall until it
Doesn't hurt almost at all... Like its
Kinda strange how when everything’s the same
Everything just stays like nothing ever changed
And hey, who’s to say? It might be kinda fun trying out
A world turned upside down
Plot twist
Now I know you and your story
The details? Frightful, sorta gory
Bad dreams keep you up, early morning
Before the sun logs in, snoring
You were thinking up revenge
On every shoddy friend
Who’d ever done you wrong
Like “**** it, I’m strong”
But now it’s...
“Excuse me, I’m sorry”
I call you on your *******, malarkey
Plot twist
 Dec 2013 Fiona Mae
Sam Conrad
Perfect

Don't you remember
When I told you you were perfect
That one time, and the other time, and the time after that,
And every Sunday when you came over for church

Don't you know
That I've always thought you were perfect
But my brain was ****** up over ****
That happened before you came along

Don't you know
That I had trouble, when I told you she ****** me up

****
This isn't finished. I'm so upset.
I love you, god ******.
I write about my own life too much
and I don't think complaining is art
sure you may relate to the ******* I spout
but don't you think I wrote it with you in mind
you are never in my mind
My thought process goes like this:
1) how can I score something to get me high
2) what is the best way I can shirk my responsibilities
3) how can I write something to prove how smart and deep I am
4) how can I convince her to **** me
I need validation
I need to be left alone
I need to be kicked in the ***
I need to grow up
but I won't
call me Peter ******* Pan
only it's not Never Never land we fly to
no I convince you you can follow me out of your bedroom window
take flight with me
then I watch as your body explodes ****** and mangled on the concrete of your parents' driveway
then I write a poem about how hard it was for me to watch
My poems are selfish
because *******
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