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Jan 2011
my darling maudlin
foolish, peculiar. under-fed.
gushing, pressing your tongue against my teeth
urging please

to speak//to speak.

                                  hosting riots
in my veins. extending out
rushing through my limbs
and then dissolving. quickly while i wasn't looking.
unspecific. waited too long. decision. decision. indecision.
no...

i always miss you
exploding under my skin. that over relished and insecure
notion
of being neglected. untouched. urgency and passion. flicking flickering. thrashing back into my throat splashing in the backs of my eyes. sneaking out the corners. searing like bile. whispering my name and asking me
who are you (again and)
who are you
who are you
i was...


(something)

lost and found and lost again. renamed and redesigned and turned
inside out again and again.
and again and
but i try to remember before i forget.
my darling maudlin. foolish
peculiar.
with damp hair. pale skin. under-fed
my
                                                    ­                                                (( maudlin.))
unraveling like a poorly made
rag doll. oh ****.

not again.

i twist her up. twitch.

guess i... guess i
been caught up in that thing again.
Morgan Ella
Written by
Morgan Ella
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