Meadow Death
Monologue of A Desperate Lover Girl (flash fiction)
The flowers inside of me are wilting. A slow death of epic proportions from small droughts of your love. I open my beak and vomit out in so many ways the answers to the meadow death.
Feed me kisses. Caress my tender ego. Wrap me in a love so beautiful it forces me to weep in awe, pleasure, and thanks. You stare at me blank-eyed, swallow my answers, then chuck them back up. Your stomach is not designed to digest these solutions.
You move your lips, singing solution songs that are really just bricks. They stack between us, growing taller as the seconds turn to weeks turn to months. I am unsure we can make it to years. I will have died by then. I can feel it growing a cancerous, persistent thing.
I chirp. Chirp chirp. Beg the sound waves to travel over brick—through brick. Anything to get to you. Wasted effort because you still cannot digest the solutions.
I think then I should’ve torn you apart. Reshaped your lips into a beak. Crushed up your intestines remodeling it with bits of my own. How else would you know that I loved you? How else would you be able to understand my pleas?
Help me. H E L P M E.
The flowers in me are dying. Perhaps you mistake the cry for laughter. Perhaps you think a dying meadow is a thriving garden. A tragic death of epic proportions. I weep and weep and weep and weeeeppppppp but they are not enough of my tears to feed the wilting plants, and you do not even know that I am asking you to water me. Please, my darling, end the love drought.
Then it strikes me that I do not even know if inside of you is a meadow at all. Perhaps you are a vast desert full of rolling sand dunes and prickly plants. Perhaps you do not understand because you have never felt what a lush meadow inside of you could be. I open my beak and chirp into your mouth, only to be met with brick again.
I need you to get me, so I break my jaws wide enough for your body to fit. I swallow and swallow and swallow until you can see what is inside of me. Until you know what is inside of me, perhaps then you will know what I need.
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I’ve been so busy writing longer pieces that I enjoyed this short bit. I hope you did too!
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Do you identify with the lover girl? What was your favorite sentence(s) from her?
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*snap snap* yessss!! I loved how lyrical this felt reading. Like someone could easily take this and turn it into a song.
this is a beautiful piece!