Posts Tagged ‘desert’

I am reaching into me

and killing this love.

I don’t know if I could call it that,

I ignore its screams as it dies

like a baby bird at the hands of a great blizzard.

It makes me want to cry,

and yet my eyes are dry steel

as I strangle this,

this stagnant love.

See, you left it that way.

Unreciprocated, and since my hands can’t reach you

they’re entering my throat

and killing this love as it rots in its own salt-filth.

It hurts, but I cannot cry,

because I am only on the edge of a desert

dancing at night

and walking, walking each day.

It has taken me over a year to journey

from the red, vacuous, and boiling center

to this edge where a bustling city moves

like opportunity.

I am killing this love to move forward.

I am leaving what fantasies,

what memories I have of you

to suffocate and burn on the sand.

Quiet whip-like sounds

drift across the plain landscape

decorated with spare grasses

which would gleam, if the sun were shining,

but now a shadowless amber thundercloud

has descended upon

what small barns and houses

litter the yellow scope of flatland.

The sound that approaches

is arid, vast, and unforgiving.

It will rip the small buildings from their worth,

it will uproot anything that is not tied

with the root of providence.

This desert cloud will surge to remove

what fruits of labor men and women have grown

to provide, and to grow wealth.

This storm separates bills

from hearts, but

nonetheless,

blesses with suffering.