I am just god’s excuse to make a ****** nose
and bruises surrounding
eyelids, even when I get the perfect amount of rest

and when autumn comes
barreling leaves from god’s big sky
I am what catches the sand, blonde grains changing
the color of my eyes.

It is just as true that he cuts the tails
from mermaids and tells me that I can find girls
who would rather be a worm instead, my

flesh is already rippled
pale and translucent pink, the best of beige between

my thighs. Because one morning god called
and I said I would not wake up
and he said that if I did not, he would wring mud
from his terrible angels’ wings and I

still never woke from my sleep.
I am his gross girl, pleased to be the queen of slugs
as long as this is the worst my sins can do.

i don't want to smell alcohol
on your breath when you kiss me,
i want to taste the hours that you waited
and to feel how much you missed me.

i don't want to breathe in smoke
when i bury my face into your chest,
i want to hear your barely-beating heart
and feel it pulsate in the warmth of your flesh.

i don't want to see the moon & stars
swirl like diamonds against the onyx sky,
unless i can do so in the comfort of your arms
and have your fingers interwoven with mine.

i don't even want my morning coffee
unless you're the one that brings it to me,
having learned to make it just the way i like it
and committed my preferences to your memory.

i don't want sunrises or sunsets
if i can't watch them dance upon your skin,
or love you between dove-white sheets
on saturday mornings at half-past ten.

i don't want to see the day i become old & grey
an early grave i would sooner invite,
than to live to greet old age without you
by my side to guide me into eternal night.

- m.f.

Just leave me alone.
Please, just get out of my head.
Get out of my surroundings,
or whatever it is where you are lurking at -
in & outside me:
you have made me a ghost
drowning in another ghosts.

Loneliness has the coldest hands
I've ever felt but it's alright because
dead bodies aren't warm either.
Dead bodies are cold but the
ever-lasting touch of loneliness is
incisively and annihilatingly colder.
You were the best teacher I had and
I have mastered to accept loneliness
arms around my waist like the leaves
have mastered their ephemeral
dance among the majestic wind.

you are fog over midnight water
and i am just a sailor's daughter
with a crippling fear of drowning
and a proneness to playing sink or swim.

m.f.

contents of a human heart may include:
shifting shadows
wasted space
loose change
mumbled promises
secret hopes
tears - and
sometimes blood

m.f.

E,

  i don't know if this is a letter or a rant or just a bunch of mixed up thoughts that i've been keeping in my head for far too long - so i'm just going to ramble for a bit. i firstly want to say, i would have loved you so well, and for a while that fact haunted me to the point i lost sleep and the desire to eat. i'm better now. i'm better than i've been in a long time. and i don't blame you even a little bit for all the things i chose to do to by my own hands. but for a really long time, i was angry at you for leaving me. that's as simply as i can possibly put it. just, angry. so angry. you came out of nowhere - and swept me up into the most intense whirlwind of emotions i had ever experienced in my nineteen years of life - and then, just as swiftly as you entered in, you departed, leaving me with not much more than feeble lines like, "it's for the best" and "i'm so sorry". i was very angry, and even more so confused. i think the problem was that you thought i would fix you or complete you or give you a purpose or something - i don't know. maybe none of that's correct. like i said, i don't know. (there are lots of things i think, but few i know).

  you nearly loved me (i say nearly because we never quite got that far). i seemed to be your answer; or some kind of beacon that maybe you thought could be a guide. but the moment my cracks started to show, i think it scared you. i don't think you had ever loved a sad girl. or maybe you loved a sad girl and she hurt you. (i don't know). all i know is that i tried to talk about the train, and you told me no. i wanted to tell you about the things in my head and what they wanted me to do, but as soon as i tried, i was met with, "don't be stupid." i understand that you didn't. as much as it hurt. i think what made me angriest was your initial reassurance that you were different and you were staying. i knew better than to put faith in promises formed by hands of human flesh, but i had a lot of hope. so like i said, i don't blame you. and i've grown a lot since that time. i'm learning more about myself every day, and it's easier now to keep my head above the waves.  i do not resent you for your inability to stay.

  i think that if i had tried to write this all those months ago when my wounds were still fresh, i wouldn't have been as composed as i like to think i'm being now. i'm actually sitting here, as i type, thinking how ridiculous i'll feel if this entire thing is off and i've misread it all. but anyway, this isn't necessarily something i need you to read. but should you choose to, or maybe someday stumble across it, i hope that you understand. and i hope life treats you well.

warmth,
- m.f.