(no subject)

[far_flung_tonic]

it was one of those mornings where

I woke early enough to make you coffee and
you let me plan our day like my outfit

my head in the crook of your arm like
a stone between the rivers of your muscles
the rippling skin making my stomach sink with each
lazy circle around my spine lets just
call it even you now, live in a miserable house with empty cabinets and solid floors,
and I cant ever be that girl again

this stomach ache has lasted days
there was something sweet i could suck on to get this taste from my mouth but instead i see to my own sickness
my blood is born new each day
a reflection of how i dreamed of you in my night
a few hours of gasping over your (all too wrong) bones
those wrists pink and complacent above your head I mean --
I wake
a monster
the morning, she cant know me like she knows you,
each hour like lace beneath me, one more hour with your name on my tongue, it resting and shifting my teeth
to make these weeks a little better for you and me lets just (we should probably just)
stop talking