Sweet Dreams

The first bite into a watermelon wedge

is always better than the last.

All of that pink string filled liquid

dribbling down your chin with no trace

of napkins to be found.

No need for cleanliness

the next step, shove

a piping hot baby back rib into your

bucktooth filled mouth.

Yet all you smell is gray charcoal

ablaze in the matte black Webber

grill that daddy just won’t throw out.

So you take a seat at the chipped

wooden brown bench patiently

waiting for the meat to crackle

like one dollar pop rocks from the faded

ice cream truck down the street.

Tongue red from the lollipop you were

supposed to save for after dinner.

Sun’s rays beaming down

beads of sweat flowing slowly down your

clear skinned forehead.

Stomachs mumbling

at the mid-afternoon sun when

bells bring sweet relief.

Fast-paced jingles penetrate

through the dry air in order to place a

strawberry drumstick in your small

left hand.

Slow creamy drips fit like a glove

as they harden with each lick.

All in search of the coveted fudge

core lodged at the bottom of the cone.

You see the sticky puddle illuminate

on mother’s favorite blanket but

vigorous strokes only agitate the

red and white frayed edges.

The colony of ants has already assembled

You’re supposed to push them away before she sees.

But you welcome them so you can

be alone together.

Only the sound of a distant shriek

breaks you from the black figures marching.

Wind whips across your face

Embedding the sticky liquid into your skin.

A chill fills the air surrounding your tiny body

the shadows eating up everything.

Wooden table no longer in view

Leaves crunch underneath your new glitter sneakers.

Night beams overpowering the buzzing

white fluorescent lamps complete with a

still moth trapped inside the glass.

Caterpillars have manifested on your

arms in the form of goosebumps as

the cursed crescent inches closer.

Purple tube slide has become daunting

the opening into the monster’s mouth.

Why does your light have to come

paired with deafening silence and

surrounding darkness?

Grass stains cover the single white patch

On your favorite tank top.

She told you not to wander out

She always tells you not to wander.

You say it was an accident, warm tears

Paint your cheeks fresh cinnamon gum red.

Moon light fully ignited, wait for the sun

to come back out tomorrow.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s