No More Phantoms, by Maxwell Gierke

I’ve more or less forgotten you this summer
I forget the way your eyes freeze over
And lose their focus

I’ve forgotten the shadows that fly overhead
The ones that come as we’d hope they do

The colorful and kind
The soft stuffed phantoms

They lead you with a smile
Over the rose blossom highway
Into their candy colored mansions

Wearing a face of a friend
As they gently guide you
Into a maze with cotton walls

They may laugh
They may cry
But they will leave you in an instant

With a polka dot pattern gash
In your stomach

I fell for phantoms as you do now
They turned my blind eye
Whether I knew it or not

But I can see you now
As I peer through
Stained glass windows of
An abandoned church

I can see you
lying under the pink sky
Holding the guts in your hands
Outstretched like bubblegum

I am taken aback
As I lock my gaze with your
Icy fearful eyes

No more phantoms

I will pack my bubblegum guts
Into the cavern of my hollowed stomach
And cast the phantoms away

Out through the maze
And over the rose blossom highway
Where my steps seal their
Blissful fantasies into the soil
With each press of my boot

Maxwell Gierke is a 16 year old writer from Oregon, Ohio. He found his love for writing aT his high school, Toledo School for the Arts, where he is two years into a three year period of studying Creative Writing.