planet earth’s view from up here -
the floorboards
creak beneath my
feet, my light blue
knee dress and high socks
catching on loose nails.
when a crack begins to
splinter in the
once-was parlor,
i crawl towards the
edge, hang my legs over the
side of the hole,
and gape at how
small the world
appears from where i
woke up this morning.
writing at night,
under the stars,
hits so differently i can’t explain.
when i
climb to the
highest point of the
highest mountain,
i can’t help but wonder
when the feeling of
being on the top of the world
will stop; or even if it
ever will.
i cream the
sweet milk you
pour into the sky,
shooting it far into the
hazy spring light,
puffing it up
until you get lost in
whipped clouds.
and as i
stand on the
very edge of a
cliff that could be
the cause of the very
end, i display your name
across my lips and jump with
all of the aggressiveness that my
body can hold tight within my chest.
from the
surface of the
clouds, i spoon
words of wisdom and
craft a story
so beautiful, i watch the
sun fall to her knees
and the moon bow his head
in my presence.
clouds of
blackberry frosting
drown out the
lemon drop rain that
twists my hair into knots.
low puffs of smoke-like
fluff hover over us,
looming evilly and
spinning us out of
control.
shots of espresso-filled
lightning cracks through
hazy, mocha-like skies.
i avoid the bridge
for fear of
slick, toffee-crusted
roads, and pray that
outer space devours
the storm before my
stomach begins to ache.
i can’t smile sometimes
when you say those words
to me. but don’t you
ever think that i won’t be
okay.