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

Crushed

Crushed

Slowly dying from the weight
that bends unpredictable curves
in time, I am
molten liquid crushed to the
density of clear reason.
Nothing precious as a blue
diamond’s shine or a final
exhale escapes, and golden sun
light too is pulled in
next to my
barely beating heart.
Deep inside the black most
endless microscopic space
where I am
slowly dying from the wait.