go-round (20170623)

riding the merry-go-round
not the kind with horses
but the one on the playground
in your neighborhood
before the safety police
decided everybody was made of glass
and pulled them out
putting down recycled tire rubber mats
before that though
riding and riding
around around around around
hanging onto the outside bars
being thrown off by the repulsive
magnetic force of a centrifuge
peeling off like an old skin

everything whirls past
a top
you’re the top
but the whole world revolves
around you fast
because motion is relative
until some bigger kid
grabs the wheel
mid-spin
stops it suddenly, completely with
bigger kid brute strength
and you fly off into the sand
because this is before we were made of glass
and our bones didn’t break inside
but our skin peeled off
and blossomed

the coldness of the moon (20160711)

the feelings appear
like a sudden moon
shining in the night sky
darkness ripped away all at once

but the stars are so small
and so very far away
far away from me
far away from each other

i will own this sadness
though it’s not authentic
this melancholy that turns
like a record in a jukebox

that spreads its roots
like a tree growing
from my chest, bursting through
bones and sinew

i will carry it
because letting go is cowardice
and facing it is cowardice
and writing this is cowardice

—–

for
the secret keeper
Weekly Writing Prompt #45
OWN | TURN | SHINE | TREE | STAR

and
The Daily Post
Daily Prompt: Cowardice