7

Her father would not stop embracing her mother, they lay in sensual union, in bliss, Uranus and Gaia, Heaven and Earth, and Uranus refused to separate from his beloved wife, their children couldn't emerge into the light, the world could not be fully created. And so Cronus, cruel time, cut off the genitals of his father, Uranus, and threw them into the sea. Venus arose out of the foam. Beauty arose out of the foam and the Zephyr, the winds, blew her gently to shore where the Horae wait with a cloak of flowers to wrap her in...

The first time I whispered your name, I swear it flooded out between my teeth like children on christmas morning, 
Decorated the walls of my living room with rose petals and silk drapes. 
It felt in my insides the same way warm baths to, like fireplaces crackling bits of perfectly noisy ashes do. 
Your name sung me to sleep at night, held me tight as a mother's embrace as she sends her son to war for the last time. 
Your name slid it's gentle fingers through my hair, played my spine like piano keys. 
Your name put stars to shame, gave goosebumps to God. 
... 
But I put your name is a casket alongside my soiled underwear the night I saw the crack in the window. 
And I cry every night for the desperate gravedigger that may bury his bony fingers into the dirt underneath your tombstone, 
Beg for the forgiveness of the earthworms should they pry their way into your coffin and let the evil seep out of your eyesockets like the black death 
Because nobody should see the kind of things you've seen. 
... 
Crawling. 
You watched me crawling towards a locked door 
Threw your head back 
Laughter too heavy to keep it still. 
I held my breath with each whirlwind of cleched fists and rushing air, 
Held my breath as the blood melted down my shattered cheek. 
Broken 
Broken was the bone that gave me my courage, 
Broken were the knuckles that took it away, 
Broken was my light at the end of the tunnel, broken. 
Broken. 
I do not think of the broken beer bottle remnants I plucked from my thighs. 
Or the words you spat at an open window, the words that hit harder than your fist 
... 
And the worst part 
Is that I forgive you. 
There is still something in my gut that tells me 
You did it out of love 
You never meant to do any harm 
You were raised with rage and you did not know any better 
And 
It was I who should have treated you better. 
... 
But I still see bruises underneath my eyes everytime I look in the mirror, 
See hands folded neatly around my neck 
And then, 
I remember that I do not know what is in your heart, but it is not love. 
So now,  
When I whisper your name, it does not swirl into the wind, 
Soft as the seeds of a wish-filled dandelion. 
It sputters through my veins like poison 
Creeps underneath my pillowcase at night like rotten teeth the tooth fairy forgets 
Your name, 
Is crowds of children chanting "Bloody Mary" into a mirror 
In the dark.

 
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