autumnal feelings

Memories melting like caramel,

Staring at clocks,

Staring at hands,

Staring at time.

I collect rain drops in broken acorn shells.

When I'm thirsty I take tiny sips.

But the water's salty, it's been turned to tears.

And I have so many ghosts.

They hide in my teeth sometimes,

When they go haunting,

My teeth hurt so much I can't eat.

So, I'm withering, like soggy paper.

Ghostly

Time to go haunting.

You told me once that the sound of cracking vertebrates was music. I didn't understand because I couldn't see the beauty in fragility.  The raw, utterly simplistic emotion.  So unnaturally natural. Stripped down to your bare bones, you are completely alone. You have nothing to hide yourself and yet nothing to hide.  And now, I can hear it.  The music in those marrow-filled support systems that turn to dust with the blink of an eye.  Our planet isn't getting any bigger, it's shrinking around us.  Closing us in, like a lock down.  And we need to bleach our eyelids to remove the stains but collect the memories in our skeleton.  It will become so full that it will begin to sing.  And no one can hear it but you.  But you are me and I am you.  So, just listen.  For on those cold, stormy nights when your heart is full of fear the song will embrace you.  Enveloping you, enveloping me in a warm radiance of nostalgia.  Memories hurt but without them we are nothing but a bag of soundless bones.

Mermaids

I watched him as he vaulted over the bar. His limbs were lined up like dominoes. He was perfect. Later, when I actually got up the courage to talk to him, I told him this.  He laughed, his laugh was like raindrops. He lifted up his sleeves and showed me his bruises. So many bruises, he said they were from all the times he didn't make it. I kissed each one gently, like a flower petal. His tears mixed with my hair, and he told me I was beautiful. He said I looked like the ocean. My hair the waves, my eyes the sapphires in sunken treasure chests. I told him I was a mermaid. Stuck forever in the water, stuck forever in the fairy tales, the myths.  I could never be real because I didn't believe that I was real.  I was simply a story people told to pass the time.  A dream to fill young children's heads.

Monday

Pomegranate lollipops are quite delicious.