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someone completely differentlast night I sunk my needy teeth into his flesh and we collided skin
to skin and teeth to tongue, exchanging saliva and hungry whimpers.
I barely even knew how to write his name and I don't think he really
knew mine but it didn't matter because he looked beautiful when
I closed my eyes and he tasted of euphoria and a lack of care.
we pretended to fall in love for the night and I sighed into his arms
and closed my eyes, with his greedy hands on my bared chest and my
lips on his stomach. I spilled shampoo in his burning eyes and we
laughed like lovers, stealing candy from each other's lips and sucking
ice cream off of each other's chest. we spent the entire day wearing
nothing but our skin, watching children's movies and playing hide and
seek between our limbs. I fell asleep thinking how much I had missed my
skin tingling to someone's touch and how much I still missed something
even now that it did. because he was a lot but he certainly was not
you and I remembered how one day you were w
Coccyx CalamityThe scapula is burn-warped
From the strain of embedding
Silver stick-pin needles
To subdue clavicle contentions
Arisen from the iron bellow lungs
With their frothed calcium tipped
Nestled on the pelvic urns
Of the Post guarded empty;
Coccyx calamity is injunctured.
Femurs full and tight
Titanic in gross weight
Must present for the patella
A bottomless soapdish type curvature
Letting tensile strength tibia
Next meet up with the deep scrape bowl
To bridge the swollen sludge-filled fissure.
The mandible, maudlin, couldn't say more.
No PrincessI watched a story when I was five years-old. I watched the movie that I know by heart and backwards. The story every little girl believes is how life is going to be. The story every little girl acts out in her bedroom, wearing a plastic tiara and her mother's too-big high heals. It's a love story. I would always have my favorite teddy bear be the prince. It ended happily ever after each and every time I played. And I was the happily married princess.
Maybe I watched it too many times. I was eight and I thought I was in love. I thought I had found the perfect boy to be my prince. I would see him at school and he would be my happily ever after prince, in my imagination. The girls teased me for thinking so. I called them my step-sisters. They resented me for it, and I was ridiculed more. I stopped saying my romanticised thoughts out loud. I quit pretending I was characters when I was in front of people. It was the easiest thing to do.
By the time I was twelve, I was thinking I was destine
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
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