musings-of-a-magpie - Tumblr blog

[musings-of-a-magpie]

its hand hovers a breath's distance above your neck

curled, dove-like, poised to close the distance at any movement

it feels each breath you take as it brushes along its palm through the wall of your fragile throat

it thinks it can taste you

salivating, chest heaving, drool drip-dripping its way down onto your face

it runs its thumb along the curve of your larynx and you stop breathing for an instant

inhale again when it gives a silent instruction to via a tap-tap to your jaw

smile dumbly up at it

not a word on your tongue nor your mind

as it should be, it says

you do not (cannot) reply

the hand is wrapped loosely around your pretty throat and you make no move to fight

what happened to your animal instinct, i wonder

dogs don't lie docile in the face of death

they howl and claw and rip and tear at god's waiting hand

the prey in you is complacent

even as it smiles, bares yellowed, crooked teeth, you do not move but to tuck a lock of hair behind its ear

it stops,

breathes a hff-hff of a laugh,

licks its cracked lips

its hand begins to squeeze and you still do not resist

it thinks then that maybe you didn't want to win to begin with

[musings-of-a-magpie]

I think I would open you up like I would a soda can.

Turn you over in my hands for a moment, near reverent, admiring intricate designs on aluminum skin.

I'd be far too eager to taste what's beneath it, though, and I'm sure I'd get impatient before long.

Hook my nail beneath the latch, hold you firm in my grip to keep you in your place.

You'd let out such a lovely rush of air when I broke the seal, gentle red bubbling up, so eager to see the light.

Eager to see me?

To be adored the way only I could adore?

I'd lap the rising tide up and treasure each little drop on my tongue, lover.

The little bits of what make you whole slipping down my throat like condensation on a can.

Good God, darling, you'd taste like paradise made human.

I'd want more, I'd need more.

I'd drink you down, ambrosia, your little gasps of exertion like ichor dripping from my ears.

Dig your claws into my shoulder blades as your blood coats my tongue and fills every sense.

Make me feel the same sting my teeth invoke in your open wounds.

Make me echo your cries when I let my fingertips loose in the folds of raw skin.

Make me need the taste of you like a drug.

Make me yours, and by God I will make you mine.

[musings-of-a-magpie]

i take solace in the knowledge that i will get what i deserve someday.

i know as surely as i know the altar that my voice will crack as i cry poorly-remembered wisps of gospel.

the time will come when i take my face in my hands and die - as screaming, bloody, and powerless as i began.

i pray each night for it to be painful, for if divine retribution is a thing (and i am fairly sure that it is - they told me so in sunday school with their hands clasped tight around my own),

then that is the fate i have earned.

i pray that it burns.

that i will twist in the empty tomb wreckage of my haphazard life and screech as my flesh desiccates its way off my fingertips.

that i will clutch my ever-squeezed, sisiphysianly bound ribcage as it splinters and pierces all of the soft, meaty parts of me.

on that gentle, soft-spoken day, i will grin until my teeth fall out for i, the philistine, the charlatan, the heretic, will finally reap what i have sown.

the seeds i have planted are dormant in the soil now.

the ones scattered on the surface have been eaten, the ones left in the rocks have starved, but i have sown them in all manner of soil and in healthy earth they shall prosper.

the day will come - soon, i do so hope it comes soon - that they sprout and their creeping roots and vines choke out every other living thing around them until there is nothing left for them to parasitize themselves on.

but for now,

i take comfort in the knowledge that i will have earned my fate.

[musings-of-a-magpie]

i know there is nothing i could have done.

you told me once that bright colors in an animal mean poison

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and nothing more.

you told me once that bright colors in an animal mean poison

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like tears

you told me once that bright colors in an animal mean poison

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like an overflowing raincloud

you told me once that bright colors in an animal mean poison

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mine are the eyes of a beast that will well with tears like a waterfall

you told me once that bright colors in an animal mean poison

[musings-of-a-magpie]

mine are the eyes of a beast that will keen its grief for you atop your broken, fragile body

that will extricate its teeth from your throat and loathe the way it savors the taste of you on its lips

that will excise the parts of you that you despised with the desperate sadness of the obits and the if onlys.

you told me once that bright colors in an animal mean poison

[musings-of-a-magpie]

and i find myself entirely unable to sleep.

you told me once that bright colors in an animal mean poison

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that does not mean that i don't feel it shooting up my spine with every step.

every time i turn my head, i expect you to be there by my side, and you are not

you told me once that bright colors in an animal mean poison

[musings-of-a-magpie]

i did, and i do.

you told me once that bright colors in an animal mean poison

[musings-of-a-magpie]

i told you that it was fine, that i understood why you had to leave.

you told me once that bright colors in an animal mean poison

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like broken bread at sunday worship.

you told me once that bright colors in an animal mean poison

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like your hand in her own

you told me once that bright colors in an animal mean poison

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mine are the hands of a woman who will take you each night at sunset like a pill to keep her quiet

you told me once that bright colors in an animal mean poison

[musings-of-a-magpie]

mine are the hands of a woman who will cradle you to her chest and whisper the lyrics to a forgotten song in the back of your mind

who will hold your cheeks and replace your tears with saliva in sapphic penance

who will wipe her lipstick from your cheek with her thumb when you want it no longer

you told me once that bright colors in an animal mean poison