Megan Throne | Hold me teddy-bear-close

Hold me teddy-bear-close;

I no longer wish to wander wonder

wondering wandering down

restless paths of bad habits and a sickening, trickling sensation I can’t

breathe.

Too long I’d been scribbling and crumpling,

scribbling and crumpling,

pacing and stumbling and shivering with an inability to

recognize

tear-dried eyes in the mirror.

 

Docked sailboats loomed in distant moonlight.

Stones at our feet formed a

compass,

the arrows leading

to pages within us

we’d been waiting to discover.

So we strolled away from shadowy, ebbing water

down a patch of miniature streetlamps

and sailboat-pulley wind chimes.

 

Hold me teddy-bear-close

and tell me it’s

okay

to close my eyes.

In your smoldering sidelong

glance, hues of autumn resonate

and the script within me is

echoed.

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