pluck

the dandelions surround you. do you let them

we're going on an adventure 

first up the beanstalk 

it is pricking my skin i'm sorry if my blood fills your ears

do you need the noises of my fear clogging you up anyways

we run around the clouds and the dandelion seeds fill my heart as

they blow around in the wind

the wishes from everyone in the whole word tanging the air 

mixed scents of fruits and flowers 

entering my pores. 

we took the golden egg from the beanstalk 

but i gave the giant a basket of chocolates and honeysuckle flowers in return 

i plummet down from the sky, 

the soles of my shoes plucking raindrops from the clouds 

i know that when my body collides with the staccato grass 

on the hill (where jack and jill once ventured) 

i will be greatful. 

when my insides spill out and my hair resembles the roots of the tree 

 with the decaying bark i used to climb on, 

my short limbs clinging desperately to the long, looming branches. 

i know that when my mouth opens in the dry air 

there will be nothing left that is bittersweet, 

that the sense that rot my teeth will be ripe

ready to erode my cavities.

i know those last seven minutes 

of this faint whir of a life 

will be a dull patter in my mind 

the hum of the birds in the trees surrounding will be louder 

than any whimper of an impression 

that my life has made. 

the blare of the falling has numbed significantly by now 

i piled my limbs on the ground and smiled

as i felt my skin mix with the toadstools, and saw you

carefully scaling down the leg of the sky. 

Author's Note

do you believe in ghosts