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wax

you took my spine, rendered me
immovable, opening me up when you
wanted a story to tell, and when you
were finished, you’d light my crown up to
burn me down, and i would just fold in on
myself, turning into a pool of a
weaker, number version of myself,
the virgin thread of oak now ash
___
backdated Post a Day poem for June 11th, 2017

deep breath in the sky

the thunder
stepped through
the clouds
with a loud, rumbling
belly – letting out
a shout, it pierced
the night sky with
a hot thread of light

Sunday Sundae Hums

paint my day sweet
pucker your lips and
sprinkle some sugar
on my Sunday, make
it feel more like a
Sundae, and then
on Monday, I’ll treat
you to a bitter coffee
laced with the fanciest
of caffeine and caramel
i’ll sweep you up into my
head fuzzies – you know,
those lingering thoughts
caught in the cobwebs
between daydreams
and waking up – i’ll ask
you something strange, like
when we hum, do we ever
end up harmonizing
in the world with someone
else humming that same
hum? and as you
think about the answer,
i hope it makes those upcoming
workdays feel a little
less glum

__
written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: harmonize

tar

i don’t have to time travel that far back
to reflect upon old memories i’ve stacked
up in my mind –  sad and sorrowful
ones make me wanna find the best poison to
undo thoughts stuck to the surface of
my skull like tar, like gum students scrape
from the bottoms of desks then toss
into rubbish bins or jars
___
backdated Post a Day poem for April 15th, 2017

ink

some choose to keep it within
others choose to press it against their skin
a few choose to take up a pen
hoping a string of words can help them mend
the places from which ink has bled
a pool of thoughts and emotions from
our hearts and heads
___
backdated Post a Day poem for April 14th, 2017

ocean kites

the night takes me
and flies me like a kite
deep in the sea, catching
the current to arrive
to the deepest, darkest
corner inside of what
makes me live, i breathe
with only a single
thread, keeping me
from completely losing
myself inside of my head
and i see the moon washed
up on the coasts of the ocean
beside what is left of me

___
backdated Post a Day poem for April 13th, 2017

artefacts

old trinkets lined
in black, emerald, and red
they whisper and breathe
all kinds of nostalgic,
whimsical tales – i wonder if
they have lead
me to your owners –
long dead,
roaming somewhere in
the night skies for
a new home
instead of resting peacefully –
choosing to haunt me
with unanswered questions
flying kites in the empty,
open starlight in my head
___
backdated Post a Day poem for April 12th, 2017