When the Universe Laughs

when the universe laughs

at how you can’t tell the difference

between glow and gloss

or how you felt lost

beneath his worn out shoes,

guffaws outspread a gust of wind

blustering onto your petty face

the way he grinned,

never once a wise wisdom tooth,

but a pretty muddy face.

⠀⠀⠀
he is the ruler of the abyss

and a wolf that cannot be tamed.

his pitch-black pity hole

was as black as the ink scribbled

on a shaved stick with my name.

he makes puppets for a living-

of the living, i would say.

can’t cut the foil strings,

you’ll have to play out his game.

⠀⠀⠀
but i never wanted to

(not that i can be sure of),

his lukewarm remarks

were stone-cold hearsays,

not a great storyteller,

he’s a silhouette of his words,

but a smouldering fireplace.

i threw in my baby mittens

to let my hands breathe in more heat

my feet won’t complain

and i can’t put out the fire anyway.

⠀⠀⠀
maybe someday,

i’ll step on his crippling skeleton.

grate the bones, gather the powder

and leave the flesh all alone,

my wind shall flew him away.

to the girl who blew dandelions,

wishes do come true- (you don’t have to say)

out comes a gloomy day or doomsday,

when tingles don’t come,

he’ll be kept away.