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i will never love the taste of cherries on my tongue, Calia Jane Mayfield

CW: mentions of blood and violence

but i will love you like mosquitoes love small Georgia children

in June like honeysuckles and knife shards against throat in

the hammock like small town hatred staining my hands like

the feeling of holding back in the dark forest at the edge of

the city and i don’t need to look in your eyes to feel you leave

and you remind me of sunburn on my best friend’s neck

because i could see the pain like a butterfly dying on the

sidewalk but it’s something i don’t think i’ll ever really

know like knowing your favorite bird or understanding

why you think gold tastes like lying in the tall grass of May

and i haven’t seen enough snowfall to understand what you

think about the sting of blood sliding out of my mouth when

i fall into your body as your teeth graze my skin as the

chapstick in my pocket melts with you and i’ll forget you like

you forgot December fainting and jars of wine that smell more

like honey than grapes and the freezing of water against flesh

and after using the clicking of my teeth together like an ancient

hand formed weapon in the dying glory we are light and

through hope if we are meant to die we will fade hand in hand


Calia Jane Mayfield was raised in Georgia and currently resides in South Carolina with her many dogs and best friend. You can find more of her words in the first issue of Wrongdoing Mag.

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