being little

being little

one time,
when I was little
and way too slow to hide,
she appeared again,
Gertrude’s ghost,
with a furious grin,
I could see.

Hearing her better,
I believed,
“Forever!”
when she screamed,
decibels, not natural,
smoking terror in my eyes,
leaving yellow stains,
forever,

Frayed shoelaces, untied,
blurred
by my tears
tears she needed
to be finished.

Two drinks later
in her arms, I was
trapped
tightly squeezed, I could
hardly breathe, within
love………..
white wine Winston’s and will,

being little being held
like that
was for her

forever failed so
I waited it out