Noodle
i stare at my phone as my arms start to stretch,
stretching so long that i cannot catch
my brain, when it starts to pour,
pouring my memories all over the floor.
the floorboards like to creak whenever i’m near,
nearing their senses for the pouring i fear,
i fear i’m lost, and cannot regain
the noodly arms and thing i call a brain.
Copyright © Kel Bickford | Year Posted 2022
|