Come to me with cardamom seeds
And crinkled leaves
Perhaps I'll find answers in
when they’re spiced into a potion
Matchsticks and lipgloss whispers
Warm, dry hands grasping
at smoke
Happier still to rot and choke
Better than blood on my hands
And I'll walk the cemeteries
to meet ghosts of the past
in the sunny cold
I'll dance in the wind before winter hits
Better. Better. Better
You addictive mind
You broken heart
Cauldrons kept warmth
as they do boil and sin
Crackling fire flicks
and burnt ashes that taste too sweet
On my blackened bride-teeth
Tears belong in the potion
I'll drink it raw again
Because I forgot warmth a long time ago
Pain is my ecstasy
So don't drag me inside when it's too cold outside
I like the cold
and I like this happy, gray sky
that lies to us
As you could reach it
and touch summer again
Poison. Like the taste of it
Don't you know me better
Death and survival are the same anyways
We die even if
we survive right now
So when the leaves fall off the trees
For their yearly death
I find myself in them
in the poison potion.
In these Hollows of Autumn
Time being time...
Those evil eyes that scare me
Are my eyes
The only monsters we see
are only the ones from within.
A.J.M. Aldrian is a graduate of Hamline University, with a BFA in Creative Writing, she loves many genres including fiction; horror, sci-fi, literary, and fantasy, also poetry and non-fiction, historical, nature and memoir. She collects books and loves spending time cuddled up reading with her partner and cat.
Comments