but the stiff wrapped wax
collapsed
in my clutched hand instead
crumbled beneath frutrations
torn paper curls
as the figure bends
. . . .light back in colors
identifiable
how i can make out
the melted mark
left by it's fall
of crayola dust. . . .
ashes of an inspirated
previously unidentified
by me. . .you
i wanted to show you
the shape on the page
yet almost
carries no weight
compared to the anchor dropped
in my stomache
. . .&& i am stuck
you would have understood
almost
almost
Author notes
crayon love
and then some
At the end of the world, or the last thing i see, you are, never coming home never coming home, could i. . .should i. . .? && all the things that you never ever told me, and all the smiles that are ever. . .ever. . .(~mcr)
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