Gingerbread Man

Run run run,

as fast as you can.

You can’t catch me; I’m the gingerbread man.

We run run run,

as fast as we can.

But he caught us.

And our skin crumbled like gingerbread.

Pieces of what we were supposed to be,

loved,

shattered on the floor.

We cup and scoop our pieces into our hands,

trying to morph them into something.

Something,

anything worth calling “me”…

anything worthy of being called in general.


Tears forming on my face

like the sound of a sad song caressing your cheek,

slow and cool.

My face crumbles like gingerbread.

I sob into an emptiness,

into the absence of his arms.

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