Tell me what makes you sad - Christmas decorations after February, the sudden youthful light in my grandmother's eyes, the smell of summer, the taste of yellow paint, and the sweet dusty air of quaint candy shops bringing me back to a time of simple smiles. I will tell you about the space between the hallucination and the daydream - where we can use our spoons to crack open a storm and find the rainbows, where moments of joy stick to my fingertips like blood and chocolate, where I know the answer to every thunderous question rolling away in my mind. I will tell you about the place between the fever and the fairytale - where the walls are made of gingerbread and there are madeleines on the roof, where I can tell at first sight what's rotten and what's pure, where we will dance to the singsong scream of evil burnt, because the witch is dead she's dead she's dead, and the fear is gone, and we can live inside our courage hand in hand. Now tell me what makes you happy - Saturday mornings, the laugh in her eyes when my joke is too stupid, sour candy, every single day of June, letting the past go, and knowing that nothing - nothing - will ever break again my sugarcoated heart. © Copyright I.B. 2017
[The prompt was “rainbow candy” I’m not sure how it turned into this. Writing on the floor of my bedroom is always a cathartic experience but maybe the monsters under the bed are too close.]