over & over again. everything is up in the air & nothing feels real except fingertips; finger pricks.
i iced my bruises from work, the swelling is going down. four years & i have never been assaulted like this. i take a step back & you’re trying to tear off my face. why? that’s what i am in school to try to find out. if only we had something that works. if only i didn’t have to dig my nails into my skin every time you opened your goddamned mouth…i will destroy you.
when i ask you to kiss my pulse you offer to start the shower. i want a verb & you give me a noun. what do you dream up while i tongue you down?
my name is mary katherine blackwood. i am eighteen years old, & i live with my sister constance. i have often thought that with any luck at all i could have been born a werewolf, because the two middle fingers on both my hands are the same length, but i have had to be content with what i had. i dislike washing myself, & dogs, & noise. i like my sister constance, & richard plantagenet, & amanita phalloides, the death-cup mushroom. everyone else in my family is dead.
august.
save money, paint room, wash hair less, eat more fruit, write more, go to new york, moon tattoo, grow hair, second job/college, clear wardrobe, get skin fixed, find a car, go to the orchard to find national geographics, go to the ocean, meteor showers, eat well, pay bills, less nickelodeon/tv, drink less & drink more, develop film, find out which cameras actually work, take photos, make music, research new living spaces,
last night i had a dream featuring: christian miller, jeff mangum, erin cashman, beyonce, lady gaga, zooey deschannel, & tim allen.
but today, oh today, i am rested & happy & calm.
