I remember creeping reverently past
The yawning maw
Snarling braches, overgrown foliage
Sad eye sockets
The defeated roof
Listing drunkenly to the left
The black spirals on the ground
Where the fire had scored earth bare
Crouched from the sanctity of the sidewalk
Damp palm snaking back to
Clasp tight
My best friend’s hand

Fear skittering up our spines
We skirted past poisonous green weeds
That swayed in the yard
Unkempt and our eyes
Darted, seeking, feral
For movement in that open doorway
Her shadow
The witch

Years pass

Looking out into suburbia
Manicured green boxes
And cookie-cutter plans
From my own cracked window
My newly acquired reno,
I spot a flash of moving colour
From beyond the overgrown hyacinths
A tousled flash of curls between the green
Puzzlement ripples as
Three lanky preadolescent forms
Snake from the protection of my shaggy firs
Thin chests taking a breath before
Their whippy arms point accusing
And I barely see a flash before
The clutched rock leaves the
Stupid-looking red headed one’s hand
Crashing through my upstairs master

And I hear it

Witch, witch, where’s the witch?

And I feel it.

My eyes beadily narrow
Peering over my bulbous nose
Shoulders hunching
Toes curl
And I reach for
The broom leaning next
The painter’s cloth
Grabbing on with knobbly fingers
Hurling myself
Out
Of
The door

Their eyes widened
Disbelieving
As they spot me  
And thumbs clutched between index fingers
They run
Leaving me cackling
Breathless

While my familiar
Looks up from
Sunning her black self
On the step.

Stagnate in the most disposition of this life,
Slowly turning the **** to shut the door behind.
Where the sound of the smacking metal clicks
And the cycle of stagnation continues again.
Is this my doing, my incarnation bring?
Is this my slow trending’s doing?
Now, awaken the beast inside,
For since the time of preadolescent
Which I had no control over.
Vulnerable to have foreseen the truth
That this beast will emerge once again.
Devouring the mind’s weak spots
Leaving no trace of my humanity insight.
For this life was better off with the door closed
And possibly never seeing that light shine.
For no door is worth opening to or whom—
Stagnate in the most disposition of this life.

I lay amongst the wet dew-dipped grass
Thinking of you
Only of You.

Cushioned by a duvet of dirt
And a pillow of languished lily petals.
A soiled white dress hanging over my
Preadolescent-like body.
Cheeks, once soft and plump,
Now drained-
No longer possessing the pinkish hue of innocence.
The translucency of my skin reveals thick, purple veins
Twisted like rope…
A gaunt Dead corpse

But here. Right now, I feel beautiful…
A beautiful corpses Bride, gazed upon in wonder by her
Cold. Dead. Groom.

Alone together, This was Our place.
Only Ours, because no one knew the moment We shared.
A moment that could corrupt a lifetime of youth in just a few everlasting minutes.

Oh how those minutes lasted!
An Eternity…
An Eternity that with each passing second brought me closer to you.

But you are gone…
And I still here.
Taken with you;
Your Spirit
Our Eternity,
My Life.