Theres a jar of honey
In my heart.
The lid stays closed,
For the most part.
When it does come loose
And I feel the sweet sting
Sugar to my ventricles,
I remember everything.
The memories hot in my mind
Turn to toast.
Syrup like stained glass,
In a church of sugared ghosts.
Golden turn my mouth and eyes
Glucose grips my throat.
For a moment I have sweetly sunk,
And then I start to float
The lid returns, I ***** it on.
Each time tighter than before.
We cant have honey everywhere,
Look at these puddles on the floor.
Aug 18, 2024
Aug 18, 2024 at 7:30 PM UTC
Theres a jar of honey
In my heart.
The lid stays closed,
For the most part.
When it does come loose
And I feel the sweet sting
Sugar to my ventricles,
I remember everything.
The memories hot in my mind
Turn to toast.
Syrup like stained glass,
In a church of sugared ghosts.
Golden turn my mouth and eyes
Glucose grips my throat.
For a moment I have sweetly sunk,
And then I start to float
The lid returns, I ***** it on.
Each time tighter than before.
We cant have honey everywhere,
Look at these puddles on the floor.
Request permission to use this poem