snapshots of september

sticky caramel skies like clusters of ambered honey, golden hour sets alight an unmade bed such like birthday candles for i am now sixteen.

i revel in my state of half-sleep. trinkets of dark humor behind each puff of cigarette smoke, to adorn the last gusts of summer pollen.

momentarily, all doubt disappears like the small pauses between each of our sentences and i marvel at the beauty of the world.

trees flare such like birthday candles in sporadic breezes for i am now sixteen watching the sun set like a butterfly in a glass jar.

overdue library books resurrect, i hug onto my knees and mugs of undrunk coffee. my unlit candles are dripping of wax, ash is wearing away.

scattered hair and tissue and mounting ambition for i am mere remnants of a child whose voice echoes in noiselessness.

blades of grass sway such like birthday candles for i am now sixteen watching green hues melt away into the soil such like a frog in the well watching clouds swim.

purpose and potential go hand in hand in haunting me, i step in puddles of autumnal rain, my own pools of delusive thoughts.

standing in between autumn equinox and winter solstice, i wrap unspoken confessions with orange hues. momentary fear laced with urgency for the future,

for i am now sixteen blowing out my flickering candles.