binging
on nostalgia,

headlights flicker through
spun sugar
fog

of events recalled
wrong,

coated in
cotton,

caramelized to
the teeth,

face down in
powder–

sweet breath
masking
grief.

boarded up
in winter mind,

i strike a match
then blow
it out,

inhaling what
remains of
flame

then warm my
hands

on better
days.

must we talk this
through the
roof..

hangs heaven ready
to cave in..

my brain’s not to
be trusted
true

the heart’s become
the only
part

worth shielding midst
collapse

still beating
though much slower

in this taped off
house of
rats.

cold hook embedded,

catch released
without
kiss,

the
ripple
reminder

you’re forever
missed.

the drowners
resurface

to cast one last
gaze

at pond dragging
strangers

still mouthing their
names.

stripped of cheap wood
camouflage,

folded chair in dad’s
garage,

a dusty crate of
god knows
what..

is needed to connect
the dots,

when crayon’s missing
from its
box.