mooncakes

We all hold hands with murderous intent

tra

ci

ng

the line between good and evil

like 

My heart is being overtaken on the wrong lane-

I stand like a deer in the acid-yellow headlights, wondering if I'll die on this

Street of run-over roadkill. I can't stop for wishing that-

I hang candy necklaces from the tips of my fingers

All the way to your reaching palms.

We smile like we're kids again. Maybe we always were,

But who realizes that anymore?

1. Smile. Teachers like kids who smile, especially during classes when mind-numbingly boring concepts itch their way into your brain and eat away the inside. Yes, you don't like school. No, you can't say that. Smile, smile, smile.

We sit in the sun, ethereal like silver lightning bolts fizzing out on golden lakes.

The ocean does not forgive. It never has, not when waves grab our lungs and pull us under, or when tsunamis choke our hearts.

Sickly sweet,

Your words touch my prefrontal cortex

Like soft burning snow.

Your touch tastes sweeter

Than ice cream

On a humid sun-streaked day.

You,

Frost-borne by the north wind,