Prosetry!

As promised: Random prosetry!! (That's prose/poetry, which is a term I coined after writing this hybrid.) In other news, happy Saturday. Very happy indeed. Good night, moon.

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Nothing fits right anymore. My jeans are sagging. My feet are dragging. I’ve got my face to the floor, peering in between the boards, and I spy what you’re thinking.

Now my key won’t fit the lock. I can’t get my sneakers off. I’ve grown longer than my bed. My brain is bigger than my head. The vast white sky overwhelms my tiny space of sadness and I am still trying to tack the right words to the corkboard with a pushpin that’s bigger than I am.

Straining through my teeth, the truth got caught. Can you hold me close enough to read my thoughts? I’m a liar; thank your stars I never hold a job for long. A new day will dawn and maybe this won’t feel so wrong. I’ll tilt my head and throw one back, scrap the Kleenex for a laugh. I’ll recall a well-worn melody that doesn’t taste like coffee beans, a song that doesn’t steal my sleep.

I’m awaiting such a day when my eyes will open to the spangled way the freckles spark across the starry host. ‘Til then I am threadbare, hackneyed, right down to the kernel of me: so this is what it means to be a ghost.

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p.s. This needs a title. Ideas?