there is a monster in my closet, she speaks with two mouths and keeps dents on her wrists and feet.
The monster is terrifying, she uses needle teeth to tear through the skin of lovers. Her eyes brim with tears made from glass.
And sometimes The monster gets really really sad......
The monster uses her needles and blades to rip tears of copper into snow white skin and she whispers her sweet nothings into her closet full of sin.
Now my carpet is stained with copper and static, I can't walk in my closet or The monster goes manic.

I spent my day breathing life into my memories.

I often walk or sit among them.
I give them
the attention they ask for
to maintain their roots.

I administer
the moisture they desire
to retain their colour
their scent.

I know they aren't
what they used to be
but they grow with me
and give me hope
for more
more beauty
more life
and more to live for.

I spent my day with my memories.

The sprinkled moondust
hovering above the wisps of clouds,
veil the puzzle pieces
as they linger
in the pools of wisdom
left behind by the sages,
where the thinkers have bathed
and left their sorrows,
to come out immaculate;
leaving a legacy
for the new intellectuals to put together.

To split a universal truth
Through the prism of poetry.
To write with mercurial mystery,
Employing cryptic non-sequiturs
After succinct statements of staggering profundity,
Is what I dream of as I contemplate
The enormity of my mediocrity.

Soft brown bread easily cut into
teeth seek out seeds to split
slight crunch of salad
green and still a little wet
brown spread of pickle
just a little, not too strong
save strength for the cheese
salty and satisfying, addictive
simple sandwich uncovering
memories of simple times
always sunny all the colours
seem brighter when I remember
family picnics games of rounders
wildly swinging the bat
I always missed
lounging on the green grass
gently placing crisps
with extreme precision between
the soft brown bread