Halloween candies

It’s early days of November.

Sunny season kissed us

goodbye,

walking out

in a wintery fashion. And

you,

you returned like autumn,

expected but

unsolicited–showing up

at my doorstep in

the dead of night with

a bag half-full of apologies.

Your midnight figure

disguised by golden confetti fired

by the street lights,

“I want to talk” shoved in my face…

bury the ghouls,

bless the cannibalistic feast! Clog

my stomach with their gravestones,

let there be no waste.

We settled on

the front porch, amongst

rotting pumpkins; the

Halloween survivors with their

poorly chiseled eyes,

shreds of pungent

flesh frozen underneath thick

vanilla-scented skin.

These gourds, seemingly

tough beings,

Ambushed

by their own

butchered shell,

suffocating.

And I too, will

soon fumble, conquered by

your crystallized breath

sticking to my skeletal

frame like

hard candy on my molars.

On my premolars.

My canines.

Incisors.

The start of my sanity’s decay.