she had me at ‘kiss me below’.
euphoria at the climax of the ferris wheel.
i saw it as her toes curled.
she let out a moan but caught the scream as she gripped the steel.
With that grip, the screw came loose and all that was left were dead bodies that could once feel.
her hands shaked as she held hands with her girlfriend as they made their way through the haunted house.
she was a walking anxiety attack and she absolutely wanted out.
by the time they reached the end, the real horror was that girl #2 thinks they were better off as friends.
somehow I ended up at the carnival by my lonesome,
but I always loved the mirror mazes.
this time the mirrors enclosed me and held my eyes for ransom, in exchange for my soul to rest in hellish blazes.
I agreed, cause I love staring at myself in the mirror.
Especially when I’m the poet who creates these stories in hopes for the carnival closing time that is my life to get nearer.