Perhaps a new collection for secrets? Perhaps not.

I walked into my closet and there you were,
all skin and bones
and transparent thoughts-
I don’t remember when it happened,
when you faded away so much;
but maybe it was when I was searching for golf balls on the moon,
trying for the last time to make a power drive to Venus.
of course, I fell short
as I always have,
and landed on a meteorite headed your way-
it burned away like the patience
I used to have in abundance,
and then I crashed through your barred window,
pulling down curtains and spilling heartless good-byes
across the freshly tiled interior of your mind-
I’d offer solace in the solstice eclipse
but the time for such niceties has been dismissed
and the moon has already passed by
leaving the sun without a kiss
to ease the days,
without an embrace to make the expanse of
And my closet isn’t big enough to hold Hydra,
the beast haunting my dreams
and devouring pleasantries
breathing terrors and
chills down my back.
The stars along its outline spend nights blinding my eyes-
enough to remind me that my closet isn't big enough to hold 
the skeletons of a constellation.

The End

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