Their points pierce the thin webbing between my toes with each slight movement, making it impossible for me to swim away, so I practice pretending all day that I’m a ballerina with toughened feet who can crush shells, nails, and hearts alike without leaving behind trails of blood for sharks to find.
We bathed together last summer, calves touching thighs and fingers touching fingers as we splashed water upon one another’s faces, and when I bathed tonight, alone except for a few shampoo bubbles, I felt your fingers on my skin, caressing my palms and curve of my neck and I opened my eyes only to see […]
Struggling deep in my throat, its claws rake my flesh, its body drips with my saliva, it screams. It’s voice becomes my own.
My tongue becomes pulsing and warm when I drink coffee and keep it in my mouth till my mouth begins to blister and peel, till I vomit the liquid out and my tongue explodes, splattering the walls with tastebuds, blood, and the history of every word I’ve ever spoken.
I’m pulling off my nails with a pair of old pliers, interrogating my mind as to uncover why I did not take out the trash before I left for my uncle’s funeral and let the pomegranates grow mold on top of my fridge while I was gone. I would throw away the bloody fingernails if […]
the telling is as much the story as the told because you run your fingers along the inner curve of my elbow and press your forehead against mine as you work your words into the air that is heavy with our breaths and the muted buzz of your roommates’ television two rooms over. — […]
I wish she would finish me. I miss her gentle grip on my pages as she turns them. She was always so careful not to tear me. There were some days when she read me for hours, hardly stopping. She would turn page after page after page. I could feel her eyes burning into me, memorizing […]