Magpie 225

Mine Is—
Me
I just want to lay lie
to the world.
A beautiful world reaching nothing,
Roses in my hand and bare skin to air.
Don't let the impressionist touch me,
too strong will the curves be to surrender.
Feet don't forget where they've been,
but I do,
and my mind wanders free of all the strife
when I lay lie
to the world.
Winds can't won't
creep up if fans lay somber beside
me.
Then,
with wind no longer the problem,
who am I?
Am I not the water splashing to the surface?
Are legs not the pillars that hold me up,
strong?
Is blood not the sash that stains my waist,
or was it?
Faces don't forget where I'm from,
but I do.

Summer Solstice Part 2

You know it's weird, right?
That the only contact I'll ever have
with you much
is over text.
And my last self will cry because
I've forgotten your voice.
And hello this self will fear
that you're just messaging
just because
and I'm your last option,
And I don't want to waste my time on that,
The Lord knows it.
So maybe you are real,
because even though telling you my world
makes the troubles even more real,
And that realness bites my face, and
slaps the tears beyond my insides,
The telling makes you as much more real
And that is one of the greatest improvements a body could get—
Is for a human to feel more in reach
To another,
And for a human to feel more real.
I need the existing humans in my life
They please me to no end
I will always love you for "kind of just because you simply exist".

Magpie 222

Thank you Magpie Tales/Tess

Time Capsule
Candy
it’s just candy
it’s simple really, when it’s in between your teeth
Forget the metaphor
We just want to feel better, you and I,
you and I, addiction, you and I, addiction
Don’t worry just because the little pieces inside the pill look nothing like the skin on your face.
Your teeth aren’t perfect and your lip gloss looks silly,
sometimes,
but you shouldn’t even be worrying
because
We just want to feel better, you and I,
you and I, addiction, you and I, addiction.
This is a time capsule and it will take you to the best parts where I was too
and it will feel better.
Blood will not ooze out of your wounds, but green shiny dust will
and you will be a fairy and I will be a monster but it will get better.
Don’t let it be a metaphor
because if you do the death won’t die
and you will continue in an emptiness that I never saw fit
and you will be normal and old and gray and won’t live the life I,
you and I, addiction,
imagined.
and you will still be with your pink lipgloss and your white teeth
and blood will drip from your wounds
and you will, in fact, die.