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 Nov 2014 madeline may
it's forever and i'm in love

i call you at 2 in the morning
i am crying
"it won't happen again"

it's forever and i'm in love

you text me at 11:57 pm
"we need to talk"
my heart stops
and my throat tightens

it's forever and i'm in love*

my mind wanders to
the pills left in my top drawer
my heart is heavy
and my lungs want to sleep
you come across my mind
and i stay

it's forever and i'm in love

i call you at 2 in the morning
i am crying
"i'm sorry."

*it's not forever and i'm in love
the sky looked
like layers of birthday cake
and my eyes were swimming in a
sunlit haze
autumn golds
all melding together-
sepia toned-
dreaming of dancing lips
and coffee shop bookstores
where hearts will beat in mocha lattes.
and yes;
this is happiness
sad sad empty
your heart
your fingers claw
for a
of my flesh.

i ran away away
from the big bad wolf
but you huff
and you huff
and puff
i am still running away
i am beveled glass
without a setting
ragged edges
and no beginning
 Nov 2014 madeline may
your bones fit into the holes
of mine , and maybe it hasn't always
been that way, but we've collided enough
times that i have invented craters just
for you, so, please,
don't leave them empty
crash into me
i showed up at your work with a bottle of wine
and stood in the parking lot for two hours
with your skin in my thoughts like
sin and sun-heat on a garden of blacktop
twisted my ankle, leaning into the wind
with a sign that read
'i feel alright
i won't stop dreaming
i feel okay'
until you quit your job with a screech
took off your apron, spinning into bright oxygen
and crashed into my majestic arms
showed me your legs in a sundress

we ran and danced on a july breeze
and sang to each other the songs our souls
kept secret for so long until
your father and brother found us
and dislocated your arm when
you said you loved me like
the wind at night

i repaired you with kisses and tears
the next night when you snuck out
and we swayed to jazz in the dark on
the old bridge a mile behind your house
as the moon wept radiant heat
we giggled and smashed windows
the trees exploded with laughter through
the canyons

you caressed me with your eyes
this morning between shrieks of tightness,
your father and brother long forgotten
in a field in our hometown,
as you wipe last night's lipstick from
my throat and chest and stomach
your heated cheek-flesh screams whispers
of being free as you lap me

and i drink milk from a cold glass.
i ate my own heart
so i wouldnt feel
and now i have an appetite
for beating pulses.
no guilt
no remorse.
i'll feed on your organs
until you are a
little boy
the slit in the curtain
spills out
unhinged light
it's icy and it splatters
across the darkness
like a reflection from a pool.
sad eyes and eager hands
holding blades that
shriek in silence.
the cold, unsaturated
awakens reality
and quiets shameful
only when the birds sing at night
do we understand
the price it costs
to take one's
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