You've got that look about you that cuts me off before I begin.
That tidal wave welling up because the loss seems only real to you
Friends thinking "here we go again"
and dicing your emotion for some "sure-cry" stir-fry.
Serving up doubt like ostrich eggs for toddler omelets
But I'm here now, the last to the party, with a fresh mind
A clean slate could do you some good,
along with something salty.
Perhaps pretzels, perhaps window tears,
the kind you shed while waiting....
For when they don't show up, blunt praises go up
and craft your nightmares in spider silk and piranha scales.
I, the stranger alone, sees the shy you getting tonsils pulled
but the ice cream being served to others...
Others who have abused your life lessons.
Someone's been Trolling you long before the internet
put moonshine in the fingertips of cowards.
Someone's been watching you pray and stealing your requests.
Angel hackers, chiming in from Halloween hammocks.
Hungry hours are denied their morsels because you spend them
stocking starvation in cupboards made of plywood and poison.
But your trusted companions don't get you...
And I don't get that.
You, a person I don't really know,
never need send me a resumé
to justify crying for 35 days.
That's how long it's been since
your cat ran away.
Search for It.......
But never get over It....
I never knew It's name.
YOU ARE READING
MY little BROWN BOOK
PoetryThis is a collection of poems I wrote in an attempt to highlight moments of my past. People used to have a little black book they kept numbers and addresses of people they were involved with or interested in. So I decided to share some entries from...
