the seeds of this fruit
are looking like jewels
so make me a necklace
sweetened with kisses
in the candle's exhaustion
smoke curls through the distance
nostalgia
reminiscent of birthdays.
and what am I?
college kid.
lover.
friend.
covered in dirt.
the oils from my skin.
a poet-not a poet.
a child-not a child.
you never asked me,
"take care of me"
and I heard it just the same.
my bathtub full of secrets
my bedroom plagued hysteria
and snow falls, a tease, to the spirit
while mold makes you sick
and sugar fills the lungs
and you can't shake the smell
from your head.
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