BY MANDY MAY
I want people to think
I want people to think that I said what I meant and I
meant what I said because I did.
I want people to think that I bled dry for those I love
even though my tone was flat.
When my breath vacates my chest and my skin
settles into the earth, I want the world to take my
exhale as champagne in a plastic magenta chalice
from Target clearance.
I want people to think of pigeons—and doves. I want
people to think of pigeons as doves because pigeons
are doves. I want people to think of perception.
I want people to think of the moon: a chunk of lemon
glued to a punch-drunk sky moon; a spooky moon;
suede grey sky and marbled clouds with orb-light
clipped and blooming moon; harvest moon, bronzed
pregnant belly of the sky moon; blood moon spilling out your mouth moon.
I want people to think of cats and majestic
and whiskers.
I want people to think of the body’s resilient failure,
rising from bedspreads of fire and ash screaming “I
eat men like air” and then I did.
I want people to think of the warmth of sugar in the
blood; how humans can be sweet with disposition
soured with its exhaustion; the slow death of fatty
tissue; blushed shins.
I want people to think of the rigidity of backbone,
softened by nothing, clenched
knuckles like clenched teeth, perfect in its twisted flex.
I want people to believe that I got at least one thing right.
Let’s talk about the moon
Let’s talk about the moon: to be aware of your body
is to be in pain is the cracking
of a petrified spine is my back
flowering with spidering blossoms
of wrecked muscle flushed.
Let’s talk about the moon
no, let’s talk about menstruation
let’s talk about ebb & flow
let’s talk about iron
let's talk about shedding
let’s talk about the pooling
of aches leaking
dripping between the knees
let’s talk about wreckage.
Let’s talk about the moon —
barefoot, skin exposed,
breathing all the night sounds
night smells:
A/C hum and honey suckle.
Let’s talk to the moon
let’s talk to the moon
let’s talk to the tune of dial tone
let’s talk to the tome of uterine ache
let’s talk to the moon of my pain,
to the rune against shame, to the sigil
for relief burned into the blood bright night.
Sick Girl
Blood sick girl
Sugar sick girl
Womb sick girl
Spine sick girl
Curve sick girl
Gland sick girl
Sad sick girl
Can’t sit still sick girl
Get mad sick girl
Flip a table sick girl
Make you want to weep sick girl
Fly in the air sick girl
Still strong sick girl
Bi sick girl
What kinda bi sick girl
Yes sick girl
No sick girl
Inflammatory sick girl
Endometria sick girl
Rotting organ sick girl
Solitary sick girl
Basement carpet cry crawl sick girl
Clutching crystal sick girl
Sweet rose magic sick girl
Patient sick girl
Spine curl sick girl
Sleep forever sick girl
Forever ever sick girl
Make it halfway up the stairs sick girl
Psychosis sick girl
Ghost music in the room sick girl
Teeth grind sick girl
Needles in the skin sick girl
Deck sitting sick girl
Fluid sick girl
Pant suit sick girl
Thicker than liquor sick girl
Make love to yourself sick girl
Bedridden sick girl
Bed pearl sick girl
Nervous tick sick girl
Gonna be alright sick girl
Just wanna die sick girl
Make the same mistakes sick girl
Don’t want to be called sick girl
Over analytical sick girl
May magic sick girl
Felt tip pen sick girl
CBD sick girl
Sick of your shit sick girl
Shoulder check you into traffic sick girl
Abandoned sick girl
Clarifying sick girl
Horror movie sick girl
Diabetic sick girl
Type one sick girl
Carrot curl of ginger sick girl
Want to live in your palm sick girl
Balance seeking sick girl
Flesh curve sick girl
Thunder ocean sick girl
Cradled in the moon sick girl
Double twisted mermaid sick girl
Bloated belly sick girl
But you don’t look sick sick girl
Manhattan cherry sick girl
The expensive insurance sick girl
Coven 1207 sick girl
Serial single sick girl
Oak tree sick girl
Magnolia bloom sick girl
Sob sick girl
Cat peppered deck sick girl
Difficult kid sick girl
Middle child sick girl
Libra sick girl
Aries moon sick girl
October sick girl
Say what I mean sick girl
Mean what I say sick girl
Amethyst lipped sick girl
Magic sick girl
Witch sick girl
Mad sick girl
Guilt sick girl
Manic twitch sick girl
Dumpster fire sick girl
Pharmaceutical sick girl
Sick girl sick girl
Epic of a love sick girl
Not faint of heart sick girl
Not for the faint of heart sick girl
Carried by my legs sick girl
Flushed sick girl
Fall out sick girl
Fall risk sick girl
Hospital bracelet sick girl
Puritanical work ethic sick girl
Bohemian sick girl
Black shadow throat sick girl
Couch sink sick girl
Tea tincture sick girl
Sigil in my bra sick girl
Magic throat sick girl
Scream into the void sick girl
Standard transmission sick girl
Sick is a brand sick girl
Sick in chapters sick girl
Episodic sick girl
Stuck in liminal sick girl
Ghost skin sick girl
Moonsick sick girl
New moon ovulate sick girl
Get lit quit sick girl
Break onto the roof sick girl
Write this forever sick girl
Outside in the light sick girl
Wet feet on creek rocks sick girl
Open river soak sick girl
Soak sick girl
Wade out to the island sick girl
Out bathing in the lightening sick girl
Moonlight hour sick girl
Thunderstorm chest sick girl
Does what she wants sick girl
Worth the work sick girl
Let the storm roll in sick girl
Ready for your shit sick girl
Take up space sick girl
Waste away sick girl
Mandy May is a Baltimore MD based writer and designer. She earned her MFA in Creative Writing & Publishing Arts from the University of Baltimore. She is the author of the poetry chapbook Magic: Moon Tides Sing Violet Petals (Babe Press) and co-curated Nasty: an anthology celebrating dark spirits (Babe Press). Her work can be found in Journal Nine, Yes, Poetry; Ghost City Review; Moonchild Magazine; Breadcrumbs Magazine; The Light Ekphrastic; Baltimore Fishbowl; and elsewhere. She believes in ghosts, magic, and the splendor of a body failing. She has three cats. Follow her on Twitter @mayqueenofbees and Instagram @mandiesel.