mary j.

He was pushing her face
against the wall in a way that made her
insides burn like
dynamite and
die-no-might
bucking heads
like a locked up tattoo artist
who can't find his ink
and the mafia lord who
really needs a mother fucking hug.

 

They watched the colors change, really slowly, as their pills dissolved in the plastic Aquafina bottles on the bedside table.

The youngest of the rebellion couldn't stomach the pain.

They were running out of time.

 

But she was more marvelous than the northern lights when she finally decided to smile

and she was more mysterious than the deepest ocean when she let herself laugh

and she was more beautiful than the darkest night when the television screen flickered on her sleeping breath

and she was more everything than he could've ever dreamt of

in his cowboy sheets and his indian mind.

 

likened to the falling of an era and the end of some thing bigger than all of us, the poppers opened up our eyes and we could see that our pupils were filled with blood and history.

all I wanted was to sleep for another hour or to wake up really awake.

all I wanted was to love you for a second when you weren't thinking of someone else.

all I wanted was to drink up the pills that had dissolved in the water so my liver wouldn't hate me so much and so that my tongue could taste what I was doing to my insides.

but I couldn't stomach it either.

When he pressed himself onto my skin and made me hold the rope between my aching jaws

{"bite down bitch"}

the smell of his discontent mingled with my own

until I felt like I could understand him for a second

 

 

"Free from desire, you see the mystery.

Caught in desire, you see only the manifestations."

Tao Te Ching