In sepia-colored separation
Is not nostalgia our greatest treasure chest,
Memories suddenly embellished if not
Illuminated.
Often pigmentation comes after the photo
A bug was once a siren,
A couch a ship,
The sky a sea,
Now in monochromatic scale,
There is something about the
“Used-to-be”
About the
“Once was,”
That invites me.
Didn’t people used to feel taller,
The world bigger.
Expansive Earth,
How I grieve the flight of my rose-colored glasses.
My glasses now are clear,
Transparent.
Adolescence is the only lens I can look through,
One finite in nature yet
Its appearance permanent to the juvenile eye.
As though time is not ticking but rather
Slicing,
Each fragment of my cornea suddenly tinted in
A moment.
A memory.
What memorabilia best suits my mind’s invention?
What paraphernalia will take me back to a world
Not split into now and then,
But divided by what is and what can be.
Long division felt like the hardest problem,
Yet an equation can be solved
Unlike a puzzle that underlies uncertainty.
So, for now,
I will watch the clouds turn back into dragons
And watch the trees fade into the dress of green,
And witness the world become another princess,
Crowned by only me.
Crumbs in my bed
Tears that I've bled
Wonder if you shed
One,
Too.
Rain caught on barbed-wire
Sliding my hand between tires
Your ire,
Freed
Then
Fire.
All I want for my two dollar a penny
Life spent in many
Just collected in a few,
But it all comes back to you.
blue portaits line the halls
self-portraits maybe
memoirs in memorabilia
are fragmenting in possibility.
night turns into dusk into dawn
days spread thing by potential
deeper shades leave reasonant holes
and all comes to call
in nighttime wanderings
right against the blue.
blue portaits line the halls
self-portraits maybe
memoirs in memorabilia
are fragmenting in possibility.
night turns into dusk into dawn
days spread thing by potential
deeper shades leave reasonant holes
and all comes to call
in nighttime wanderings
right against the blue.