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Death and I haven’t spoken in a few years. Last I saw him, he was peering at me over my friends grandmothers shoulders the week before she passed. It’s here with me, she’d said sadly, and I smiled weakly because I knew it.
Now he sits near my own grandmother. She’s frail and the doctors aren’t making any promises. The rest of my family won’t look him in the eye. I greet him like an old friend.
“You look tired,” he says, and I nod.
“That’s because I am tired.” He gives me that sly smile.
“In a lot of different ways it seems.”
I want to roll my eyes, but he’s right. My soul hasn’t felt this heavy since I was 16. I sit next to my mawmaw as she sleeps.
“You’re not as afraid of me as you once were,” he says suddenly.
I shrug. “A lot’s changed I guess.”
“Has it? From the looks of it my dear, you’re a little worse for wear.”
I’m angry now. I wanna scream that he’s wrong, that I’m healed and I’ve aged like fine wine. But I look at my rib cage poking out and the dark circles under my eyes and I know he’s right.
“I’ll be seeing you.” He leaves in a hush. I look at my grandmother and realize with a familiar sting that I don’t know if he was talking about her or me.
honey don’t feed it, it will come back // hnl 2019
I was 16 years old // a little bird with no nest // or shelter from a storm // I’d been wandering a long time before I found them // my mother called them a den of foxes // wild and sinful // but they called me sister and sweet child // her mother taught me how to be a green witch // her father showed me how to change a tire // and her grandmother taught me how to spread my little wings again // I took to the skies years ago // been flying on my own for awhile // every now and then though, I visit my den of foxes // and they reteach this little bird what family is meant to be
thicker than water // hnl 2019
Hope my followers had the best Christmas and a lovely New Years bring on 2019 // also follow me on Instagram - maddymccabe
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