Jill,

No, we cannot stay like this forever.

Your delicious metaphor is quaint but how do you decide who deserves it foiled up with ribbons in their shoes? What makes you enjoy someone enough for that? The answer is in apples and not chocolate as the apples feel hollow like the platitudes you need to feel better and the raging color red and hard skin as how you say you want to shield your heart where you are known and do not have to pretend to be normal though you resent when the differences of this world become apparent. It is wanting until you get it and then the wanting it gone. It is a trap. The apple trap.

You have given your life away. You kick and scream at the air that separates us when I say it aloud to you. I broke my arms and bled their arterial lies too long ago, so long there were only castles of sand in the living world before. I have already had to admit what you will not admit. You are living the life you cry for since you do not see an attractive way out. If it were all that important that your children do not have parents living in the same house, you would not feel the sadness you feel. You are satisfied believing you are sacrificial though not satisfied enough to be sacrificial without complaint. It makes you feel better about the ways you feel you are greedy if you are hurting yourself, giving yourself away for your children. My saying so is not a judgment, only truth.

You have given your life away. Have you ever had your own life? I doubt it.

Thank you for the chocolate which you left in my shoes. The patriots of our days have unseen motives though free food is free food and I do not mind if later you are to knife my spine in the dark. We have a legacy of such things, you know.

You say you are needy though you have never asked me for anything. I am waiting. You do complain. Complain and complain and complain and complain though it seems you are not in want of anything. Perhaps I am meant to guess. I never will. I will never save you from your life and I will never try and change your mind. I will always tell you the truth whether it hurts you or it does not. Alright, I will lie when I am testing you, and I will lie when I am trying to manipulate you. So will you and so it is fair.

When we were little, your hair would be bleached by the sun and straight as arrows and whip me on the cheek if you turned away as you did today. I have learned to keep my hand in front of my face now to deflect the burn. You are loudest when I want quiet and you are logicless when I want you to understand. At the end of a knife, my spine. At the knife of my spine, an end. At the end, my knife is your spine. When I am positive there is no one living on this dead planet who may know my suffering, my right hand turns into yours and lets me fuck it until I cum the pain away.

Everyone is listening at our doors, counting our breaths, waiting for a sign that I need help. They do not trust you with me. The lights flicker. They circle while they pretend not to be looking. You would not let me rat you away in my room forever and I am not asking for that as I have it with someone else anyways. I broke my fist on the wall of the old house once when I had lost my shit about you. I thought it was so stupid you named you and Brad’s room Burgundy. I hated him for being close to you then, I hated him more when I found out you got remarried to him again.

I am a vain, sneaky politician. I am innocent.

No one is waiting for you. No one is waiting for me. -- one is waiting for you. -- one is waiting for me. -- --- is waiting for you. -- --- is waiting for me. -- --- -- waiting for you. -- --- -- waiting for me. -- --- -- ------- for you. -- --- -- ------- for me. -- --- -- ------- -- you. -- --- -- ------- -- me. -- --- -- ------- -- ---. -- --- -- ------- -- --. -- --- -- ------- -- you. -- --- -- ------- -- me. -- --- -- ------- for you. -- --- -- ------- for me. -- --- -- waiting for you. -- --- -- waiting for me. -- --- is waiting for you. -- --- is waiting for me. -- one is waiting for you. -- one is waiting for me. No one is waiting for you. No one is waiting for me.

I am a tender creature with the sharpest teeth in the world. No, I am not surprised at myself. I feel that with my teeth you will forget my tenderness. I fear you will disappear. I lost Maxine for being myself. I can lose you for the same. I do not want to believe that. I want to believe you will let me be slow and soft to you though it is up to you when I am and when I am not.

I do love you.

MBK

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