Forever is make-believe. The sun
only shines in the day. The sky grows dark and
grey. The red and golden leaves fall off
in the autumn breeze. Friends are like

the snow. They leave me cold. And
then turn to ice, leaving puddles of memories,
stealing apples from my eyes as thieves. I spend
more time talking to the head in the mirror,

the only woman nearer to me than
any of them, so-called friends. White knights
turned to black nights. Tossed like a salad. And limp
as I, so pallid. I ache to hold onto a mountain, strong

and fixed/not thrown like a stick. That I can look up
to and rise in altitude.