caught in little fishing hooks
pierced ears gone awry
its scales scrubbed viciously from flesh
hacked open
gory madness
soaking into the oak table
not very hygienic
not much of anything
congealing, drying
still wet enough that to touch it would be
to spoil everything
(makes such pretty colors in the wood)

i am looking for a reason to get out of bed
the way my husband will look for the toenail clippers which fell behind the desk
he could probably move it by himself
but i am weak
and it is very hard for me to lift myself out of these sheets
let my feet touch the floor
walk to the sink
finger my hair as i look in the mirror
softly blink
lift the weight pressing onto my shoulders
and whisper:
"Today is going to be a good day."
"Today is going to be a good day."
"Today is going to be a good day."

is this normal?
i could writhe and shriek like a chicken that doesn't want to be picked up
you could watch the feathers fly up and get kicked to the dust
i could scratch you and scramble to get away

we haven't had a fight yet.

is this normal?
i could lay in bed with you all day if we weren't shackled to other responsibilities that make our lives so rewarding and rich.

we don't get tired of each other.

is this normal?
nothing about you bothers me and I wonder if anything ever will. we are made for each other, you know.

<3

you walk in the door
as i walk out

freedom at last.

Come home, darling
Hop into your Jeep
And pray my soul to keep
I tire waiting day after day
But I will send you postcards
To keep you company.

i wanted to troll you
rummage through that closed mouth and find the feelings you forgot to floss from between your teeth

how was i to know
it "wasn't serious"?

you told me that you ached to call me yours--
and then you hung up.