auto-anathema
and i hope when you kissed my photo and placed me back in my spot alongside her you were hunched over clutching the sharp pang in your spleen and the palpitations in your chest split your sternum wide open and the pulp of your marrow that was once me, makes the sound of that of slop as it hits the floor seeping into the cracks of our foundation built on pillars of stardust and ammonia shapeshifting in a trench coat as often as a saturn day spinning on it's own axis from a broom closet no one is meeting you in. a talisman wrapped around your fingers as you play with the moon in your pocket, my hand in your back pocket stamps of rose gold in the sinew of you, the hymned-rustling of your keys to remind you and the smell of cherries filling the air when you open your nightstand invading your lungs, hairline fracture trigger flashback to the one you pulled on me the night we met when the sly reaper laid their hands on my shoulders and said "tell me a bit about yourself, miss" fact check, only druid, no doctor, only my laugh in your head shattering into a million tiny pieces and shards embedded won't let you play runed stag when sleeping dogs lie never far enough away ultraviolet chicory ringing in your ears and ragweed-tumbled tears your tapestry in an attic torn at the seams, a mirror image you would die to look at my polaroids in your wallet and words best left unsaid when you papercut yourself on the crisp edges of the book i made you of us sitting in a handmade box gathering dust under fairy lights entwined around your bedhead; aglow in guilt and the sheen of sweat that covered my breasts, dripping for you, wound tight by the strand of hair you kept me on, playing dead just to please you, but cash is a poor man's money, a thief in fogged-up glasses and a beanie while love like a sunset pt. 1 by phoenix plays. your justified modus operandi. ASW // june 2026