Poetry on Lit Up
halloween costume
free verse poem by chris taylor
walking.
aimless, in my bedsheet ghost disguise,
i forgot to cut holes for my eyes,
but that’s okay, i know these one-car-wide roads
like i know my own mind, even when all i see is white;
no protection for my
legs, my barefoot toes burnt on the pavement, wearing down,
i don’t swing my arms like a human,
have to pull off this ruse, even when the chafing
of my thighs hurts even worse, i can only walk today;
a car hasn’t come by
in thirty minutes, i’m starting to question where i’m
headed, if it’s even halloween,
if i’m a friendless, teenage trick-or-treater
or just a lonely kid who ran away from home in a
desperate final attempt to be forgotten;
every step grinds my
bones against each other, tightened hips,
keep going, have to get anywhere other than this,
my head cycling through the same two sentences, tiring
me out, eyelids falling so low, pulling on my crooked hairline,
muscle memory moves
my feet when i fall asleep under the sheet, subconsciously convinced
it’s still on my bed at home, instead of tempting gnats with the scent of my sweat,
breathing slows as though i’m not all alone outside at night,
not drifting further from myself and my life.
Chris Taylor is a young writer who creates poetry as a coping mechanism, sharing it as a way to connect with others. In their spare time, they enjoy spending time around dogs, family, and listening to electronic and alternative music.
