Hey

Hey

I know we haven’t seen each other in a while
But it’s not like I miss you

It’s just that I saw the stars tonight
And they whispered to me your secrets

Sticky secrets with flimsy limbs
Grasping at my hair and hands and happiness

Like chewing gum
Smacking against your teeth

Not that I miss you, but I just want to
Climb into your skin

Suckle on your bones
Like a starving infant

Until they’re dry and cracked to dreadful dust
Leaving your awkward, unworthy flesh behind

I’d gather it up, your flesh
Folded neatly like a linen shirt — skin smoothened to neat pleats

I’d hide it in my trunk
With our forgotten dreams and all the dead things we left behind

I’d keep it
Only for a while

Only for a day
Perhaps for a night

Then I’d toss it out the window
Like a carefree little vixen

Laughing and self-loathing
What a modern woman I’d be

Lonely and occupied and cautious and free
Sometimes melancholy, sometimes a little blue

But, hey
It’s not like I miss you

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Womanly

What
Does it mean?

To be
Womanly

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Is it merely
To push life out of you

To walk
Barefoot and broken

Abnegate
With a Scarlet letter on your breast

Or is it more
Visceral, intricate, guttural, real

Like perhaps
The iridescent shimmer of broken glass

As it sticks
And gleams prettily on your open wrist

A pink gash
To compensate for the one between your legs

A blue vein
Hastily stitched up, bandaged and recompensed

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Is that it then
Are you a woman now?

Carved marble-like
A suffering, persevering, patient creature

From a blade
An ecclesiastical scalpel

That punishes
The sinful, the splintered, the shameless

I think not
For reasons that might seem uncomely

You are
Blood and bone

Conscientious
About your own volatility and insignificance

Your blood
Is crimson, but also violet and cerulean and green

Quite like
The bruises that are meant to discipline, but not display

Tell me
Again what it means

To be
flinted and livid and discordant and hungry

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Tell me
I pray, Erudite

What
Is it after all

To be
Womanly

[Featured GIF: giphy.com]

[Featured art: Sarah Modak]

Fractured

Something broken,
collapsed,
and swallowed whole

into the earth that birthed my wayward pneuma;
the old thing —
cracked, jagged, and charcoal.

Thought and desire war, squirming under my skin;
weird, voluminous, wrong.
I feel incomplete, un-whole.

And then, she’s there – a sharp, devastating ache.
She’s  a tempest —
a sense of chaos, madness, the curling of toes.

Hot and uncomfortable as noon I lay here,
under this flimsy skin,
fostering hideousness and hope.

Hit by an edge of defiant anathema every now and then;
it rots with me —
shameful, ugly, vacant, and cold.

If her skin crawled up to me,
we’d collide —
hands, lips, hearts, and throats.

With heavy breaths and a quivering consciousness,
our senses fractured and dissovled,
we’d slip under the earth – soil and petrichor.


[Featured Image: Heitor Magno]

Disappear

“What if I disappear?”
She asks,
Her voice a deteriorating whisper.

“I’ll come find you,”
I say easily,
Expecting a flippant laugh or a snort or even kisses sweet.

But she says nothing.

We lay there,
Vacant and immobile.

We don’t speak;
We unravel silently,
Decomposing, un-being.

White sheets cradle our bones,
As her white hands cradle my heart.

The truth is,
I fear.

She was a shadow of a person.
I filled her with love and life and grand ideas of the future,
But the cavity in her mind was a pitless abyss.

She could disappear now,
This very second,
And I would remain,
With not a single ort of her existence,
To ease my way.

So we lay there,
Still as corpses or trees.

Barefoot and cold,
In an unspoken reverie.

[Featured image: Silvia Grav]