My cold jar
October my room cold as your heart-
I stare at the roof drowning in blurry eyes
It takes me back to the old tug-
The ache the heaviness of the heart
Each October I lost someone
My eyelashes drenched in memories
Oh how badly I loved my ladies
My heart still beats their name;
One with brown eyes thick curls
One had pretty lips I could kiss forever
One had the kindest heart that kept thousands of lies
My lovers looked pretty with their dead sunflowers
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How pretty they were wearing my sweaters.
And when her legs wrap around my waist and pull me closer-
I know she too will be there safely in my jar
My jar of memories, rotten, old and painful
The jar where my Agatha lived
Oh Agatha your lover, he has my October.
By Hridaan
