Don't Try [Poetry]

split-sole saturday

split-sole saturday

september14twenty19

oh, you're sweet like a saturday. noncommittal and adventurous, but still homey and deferent. worship palms under cotton, lips like candy and wanting.

I seem to wonder, dear. that wind that takes flight before a storm, that crying breeze - it feels like a mirror to the soul. is it my fingertips brushing across your skin, those thunderstorm prologues? did I ripple enough that you caught the right glances, to see the right face?

you never quite plagued me, but the absence of you certainly did. that hollow's all filled up with rainwater; maybe it feels familiar.

such a burning flavor, never could quite get accustomed to. candy peppermint, I don't want to slip, I don't need another renegade. for another heart beating faster than my own would cripple me faster than my broken bones.

playful regards to mint, walking slow so I don't trip. it'd be nice to get concussed but I feel as if I must stay below the sea for a little while.

my sweet saturday sun, you never quite left my mind. bitter dreams of hospital stays and forced getaways lie dormant and uncried over. it is both my worst fear and my greatest wish for the curtains in my room to be opened while I'm there, while I limp to a smile.

why, it'd be magnificent. but saturdays are not meant for the faint of heart. you're friday august, beginnings and conclusions, promises and rifts. something tore you away from the morning's harsh light.

I am not hobbled, still stooped over in pain. lend me your arm, maybe I'll keep dancing.