To Hades
I’d sell my soul
For pittance

Just

For a chance
To recall
Your Smile

it's funny the things you forget
when asked for an 'interesting fact' --

you sleep on them for days
and exhume them from the ground
because they matter! so deeply!!
there's no metaphor that does them justice!!
it's poetry because it isn't!!!

i don't know my siblings.
my parents sleep in my dead grandad's bed
and i received his cupboards:
yeah, we're pretty much begging to be haunted.
let's be positive, it'd be nice to see him again.

thanks to reinforced childhood superstition,
i still pick up pennies from the ground
(yup, even with my germ phobia).

i used to write to the tooth fairy!
she warned me about gum disease.
her name was tiffy, but it turned out to
just be mum writing with her left hand.

as an internet-addicted hermit,
little me hated going abroad
since the only friends i felt i had were online.
there's thus a list of places to someday re-visit -
rotterdam is one.

i'd like to be somebody's muse.
if my life plan fails,
i want to work in a funeral parlour:
it feels as though i'd do it justice.

watching the same film more than once
just isn't something i do -- except grease --
exceptions can be made when it's on TV.

i mean, c'mon, it's grease.

But of all the sweetness turned to sand,
This bitter shell is still what I am,
I travel back to our old places,
Pyramid hairdos and shining faces,
Etched in forearms and crying faces,
Half a decade and I will face it,
The moment so long past, I cast aside,
The fleeting feeling, far and wide that I must admit
I can not even recall your eyes.
But I still simmer in all my pride.
So if I manage to fall and die,
I'll be unlucky enough that you'll be by my side,
Because of all the ones who came and went,
Red, blonde, broken, bent,
Of all the places I have went,
Our time was time well spent.
That bitter shell and dust and sand, is all I really am.

The pendulum of time swings back and forth
and touches all those who regard it’s worth.
There isn’t any indication of when it will stop
because none can foretell that time of the clock.

It includes all living creatures that move along
and there are some who recall it with a song.
In so many ways they’re somehow involved
as they know without it nothing gets resolved.
______