sweet summer
at a beach house
time for breakfast
the breeze being my spousesmearing honey
all over my bread
it got on my hand
lick it away!it's tasty
but also sticks
it won't come off
look how it dripsget me a tissue
I need help
but nobody heard
my calls, I guessthere I watched
the honey's flow
all over my hands
over my arms growI watched
was this dangerous?
I let it happen
as if I was watching the circusslowly it became
more and more
soon the honey covered
the entire floorthe honey rose
over my entire world
did nobody see,
the color gold?there I was
floating in honey
rising over the ocean
it kinda felt freeit became
hard to move
I was dragged away
but I liked the viewhour after hour
I grew impatient
when would this
finally find end?the time dragged
itself over eternity
at least my body
felt kinda fluffyyears went by
my hair grew
I smelled of honey
and I also knewthat if I went
back right now
I couldn't keep
going normal aboutmy body started
it started changing
I wouldn't have minded
but it didn't ask meI grew sick
of the honey
I tried to get
back to my feetI grew sick
I didn't want this
suddenly
I again felt a breezeI was on sand
the water touching my toes
arms hugging me tight
why, I don't knowI turned around
was greeted by smiles
smiles of pity and fear
smiles like kniveswhat did this
all mean?
I watched another me
wipe me cleanthen I noticed
blood in my eyes
I had gotten used to the gold
but now I slowly grew blindthe blood
dripped down as tears
over my face
but I still saw carersthe other me
cleaned me all up
I tried thanking
but she took offthere I stood
walked back to my hut
I looked around
the mess, the mudI looked around
to a calendar
then I noticed
I tried to surrendermemories came back
but none were mine
who's were they?
it made me crythe memories
of the ocean
a stormy night
and I was swimmingI pushed
the memories away
this time shall be
forgotten, I prayedthose days
those months
those years
hurt my lungsI still couldn't
thank the other me
for saving myself
out of the endless honey
YOU ARE READING
Talking heart
PoesíaTransferring my thoughts in form of poetry. To understand myself, probably, maybe.