surgery

eloquent eyelids fold and grow old
the pressure applies to a plethora
as the images enter and exit my mind
reminding me over and under

i forgot that her feathers were fragile

the sky is ceramic, cerulean
it'll break if you tap at the glass
pieces of the parchment, love letters all
are littered through threads of my time

i wasted by waiting a while

this is the end, let us end and begin
we've only been a weekend away
so revisit our houses and hold to their hands
nothing they know is upon us - not yet

our only defense is declining

the taste is too tepid to tingle my tongue
i'll mix a new element in
this time i'll range from the red to the riddle
enigma in envy of aid

the guilt gives me guesswork

i don't harbor hard feelings
in a sorely softened soul
i merely miss what's now misplaced
and i wish to weave some wounds

to be sort of a surgeon

and i ask my own memories -
is this ever adulthood?
to simply say i love you -
is that all it ought to take?

i wish i could whisper these words in my ear
like a seashell, held against:

grow up, little girl