Butterflies
Suddenly your mouth is not enough. And the moment that hits me, I become desperate. I yearn to eat you up. I yearn to destroy you. My left hand curls around your neck as my right reaches down your throat. My fingers close on beating, struggling mass. And as I pull your heart out past your teeth, my own grows all but insatiable. Yet still yours beats. Mouth watering, belly growling. My fingers, wet with blood, daintily drop the entirety into my gluttonous mouth. A rhythmic pulse crawling down my esophagus. And I know I’ve made a mistake as it scorches the fleshy pink of my throat. It hits my stomach with a dull throb. And as it lands it bursts into legion. A myriad of you crawling around the unsatisfied pit of me. And the nausea hits all at once. It is infinite. I can feel them growing inside of me. I can feel their wings. They tickle my stomach lining, whispering your name. I tear my hands across my rib cage. Scratching and clawing. Longing to pull you from me. But the wings still flutter. A light and foreign ripple grazing my veins. I jam my fingers down my throat, still raw from your slow descent inside of me. Vomiting, the only relief I can imagine. And the sickly creatures rush out in a bloody torrent. Small and wet. Sticky crimson and bile ceasing their poisonous flight.
Leaks
I ran out of paper just as the sun dipped down below the horizon. And I felt the words spin and twirl around my fingertips, begging me to release them. But the light was dying, and I had nowhere to spill the ink. I let my eye lids drop heavy, stopping my eyes from soaking in the moonlight. Stars flickering overhead in a gentle push and pull with the waves crawling up onto the shore. And as my mind crashes into slumber, I look up into a dim chandelier. I hear light, twinkling notes catching on the air. Crystals playing iridescent prisms across the massive expanse of a ballroom. I sway in time with the slight rocking of the room. Gauzy, white tulle wraps my body and flows gently, grazing the water that reaches for my ankles. My bare feet meet the hardwood floors just as my eyes take in the flood pouring out from under the doors surrounding the room. It’s salt water drowning me fast. And I have to let my story out before it creeps up my frame. So I dig my nails deep into flesh. I carve the words and fill them with left over ink. My skin the only place to record my truth. My veins scrawling perfect penmanship down my arms and legs. My ribs covered in thoughts. Careening script across my clavicles and my sternum. And the water flooding faster. Reaching ever closer. Memories digging themselves up and covering my throat as I lift my chin to steal a last breath into my water logged lungs. And I wake just before dawn. I wake in the ocean. Salt stinging my wrists as the blood pools.
Lovers
My anxiety sees depression across the room and makes eyes, coaxing her into embrace. To anxiety, the scent on depression’s skin is intoxicating. It takes hold of her in ways that make her want to devour parts unseen, touch and touch and to-.
My anxiety and depression are destined. Like the taled red devil and white angel, shoulder bound. But they’ve long both shared the right, entangled and pulling me in the same direction. Off the edge and farther down than the eye can see.
And they just want the best for each other. That’s what love is, thriving together, for and with each other. Willing only good, prosperous events to unfold. And my body has been a gracious host:
How unexpected. You’ve come so far...
I guess you’ve right to be here.
Who am I to uproot you?
Who am I to come between lovers?
Who am I?
