moonlightamber

i exist in the city limits because i want the wind to make me frail. fragile like a ghost, a sorry sin i promise to abstain but inevitably commit. my bus fare is a kick down memory lane. i walk instead. he told me i spun words that dissolved on the tongue before he even had the chance to taste them. he called me sugar like a midday ritual, dressed me in compliments more fit for kings than commoners. i turned complacent; comforted by new beginnings and frightened by sudden endings. my mother never taught me how to avoid heartache. she only told me that my heart was a gold mine and i should never let fake jewelry lay over it. once