adeline-renee

 river river, oh my river could i ever forget you? don't you leave me on my own without my fishing wire, without smooth stones to fill my pockets, and tadpoles to swim between my fingers. river river, oh my river could you ever forget me? another girl lost to the weeds and algae.

 river river, oh my river how many have you swallowed? i remember when those two men jumped from the concrete bridge into shattered ice water and when you fed on those boys who went swimming and all those reports on you kidnapping poor fishermen from their perches. there were never any Sirens, just free flowing water. sometimes that's even more inviting.

 I have fingers made for dialing rotary telephones until sore and for pricking; one, two, many times and pressing crescent moons into skin. I am a cultivation of blood—bloodlines and blood oaths and blood drawn from sewing needles, among other things... chewed up blooding lips. scratched bloody cuticles paired with blood under fingernails. bloody scalp and bloodshot eyes— Blood. Blood. Blood. and damn, the best New Years Resolution I can give is, maybe I'll do better next time.