My Space

My Space

I hide a gift for the sun
in my pocket
to tempt it to come out
from behind the clouds on this gray morning
of sore throats and head aches

I long for the sun to show its face
to dry the puddles and light my space
as I clean out the mementos
that I save in the corners of my mind
that I've hid to protect them from the ravages of time
and the temptation to forget
the sound of your voice
the shirt you were wearing
and whether or not I had my shoes on.

Hahaha, I don't know where I was going with today's piece so I think it ended up pretty strange. I might do one or two more in this series but I already have been finding it difficult to think of ideas for it. I didn't intend on making this piece a part of the series until it hit me mid thought. Oh well. Peace out.