You make my heart skip a beat. I could run 10 miles when you call me your girl
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@jadynmccleery
You make my heart skip a beat. I could run 10 miles when you call me your girl
hell, tonight, is safer than dreaming
In cocoon I am your innkeeper
You, the looks of your last meal. a web
Siren’s cacophony
Splayed out to bleed
told to create something pretty with the backwash
dripping
Finger painting a lovers demands
across my body. you sinking into my ribs
Breathing with my lungs
This plague
No
A haunted thing - love will be
For longer than it takes any scent to tug you back in
I will leave the door unlocked for now
The loving, briefly, and then the slow burn of
the unlove
Is running to you a fantasy long gone?
Is the airport, the flight, the showing up on your doorstep with the rain wrapped around me a figment of my imagination?
There is a letter you wrote, in a drawer upstairs, collecting dust in my dresser
You said that if forever is as long as it sounds forever is just not enough time
Is it too late to pretend that forever starts now?
To pretend the past is not past us?
Is that make believe? To show up some cloudy afternoon?
Is it wrong to drink in the thought of your face as I run to you, as I look at you and you stare back at me?
To picture a breath between us, inches away from lips, your eyes like burnt Newports
And my sorry against the sky
Over and over
Let us forget the taste of goodbye
Whatever is screaming
Woman
I am there. Chasing her.
Let me be covered in dawn and witchdust
pine forest, dusk
speaking the scent of she
And when the wolves come, they always come,
I will remember her name and call it myself,
even when the vowels sound of death
No matter if the tongues curve eats us alive.
Every immigrant I have ever met
Is much kinder
And softer
You are not anti- immigration
You are scared
Scared of brown skin
And the smell of good food
And a drive you have never known.
Try saying goodbye to your home country
And being bombarded with those
Who have no idea what it is like to have a peace of their own.
Who have no idea what it is like to leave their mother.
I remember
Months after you had left
your name would still slip out of my mouth
Like sticky chewing gum
Every time the same vowel would pop up mid-sentence
There you would be
Floating in the air around me like pepper
Haunting me
Measuring time passed by weighing out the feel of you on my tongue
How it would flip over in its own shallow pit
Aware of the mistake my mind must have made
And how it knew it wasn’t much of a mistake
If it kept happening and I hadn’t learned a thing
I've always missed you. Isn't that funny?
How I felt you before I knew you
How you still haunt me now
My mother is:
Rough calluses
Feet of a dancer
An engagement ring on top of an old wedding band
Sunday evening
Nylon hose
Pot roast and potatoes
The air at twilight
The sky at dawn
Thrift stores
Peach cobbler
My ears and boiled peanuts
The freckle on my right cheek
Broken
Scattered
Glued together
Her own canvas - and her own painting too
Dreams
Hopes
Disappointments
My mother is not:
Scared
And I’m saying,
If the world was ending tomorrow,
I know you would be with me.
For that last day.
Be with me until our skin turns blue,
Until our sides turn to our backs,
Until our hands lose grip of each other.
But,
Tomorrow the world is not ending,
And it will go on,
With or without the other.
J.M.
“Our ships sink or sail, or we are a buoy of our emotions.”
J.M.
For you my love is winter flurries-
The kind of snow that doesn’t stick
But oh, how it wants to
J.M.
White savior
If I push a door and it does not budge
is it my right
to break it down?
JM
America
Rich, poor
God, godless
Beauty everywhere
Hatred in most
places
Everywhere
Is burning
We are sleeping with our eyes wide open
Heartbreak is a different kind of brave
How courageous you must be to have your world end and wish for the sun to rise again
How strong it is to have your heart crushed and to hold it up to the universe once more
To be terrified and still say
I want to love like that
Again
And again
And forever after
J.M.
We had young hearts, and freckles, everything that gets washed out with age
J.M.
Things I have needed to give up have become things I have wanted to give up for the sake of myself