~Drained~
yet the salt rivers
carve deeper, still flowing.

~Blind~
yet the eyes search the dark,
groping for the gone.

~Numb~
yet the wound blooms fresh,
each hour a slow knife-turn.

~Fallen~
yet faking through the day,
the cycle grinding on without me.

~Nothing left~
yet the snarled threads
of future and fate choke me awake.

~Dead~
and still breathing.

To feel alive, I stepped out,
earnestly seeking a way to be-
closer to nature, closer to you,  
yet each footfall weighed so heavy.  

My eyes burned and welled up,
I could blame the sun, a little.
Blades of tiny grass pricked my skin-
a feeling I’d long forgotten.  

Fountain grass swayed in gold haze,  
the sun sinking low behind it.
But all that filled my mind, my ribs,  
was your face, your nearness.  

Memories struck clear as glass:  
our fingers first twining tight,  
a story the trees still whisper-
the wind bringing you back to me.

With each passing moment,
I wish to go back in time-
to feel your breath, to hold your hand,
to be near, just blissfully watching you.

Like a flower fading first from its core,
water never reaching, veins running dry—
slowly dying, no one seeing the collapse,
as the colors burn ever so bright.

You were the rain that drowned me,
roots drunk, petals swelled with light.
Now, rot creeps in and mold blooms slow,
still I clutch the last drops of you, too tight.

i may have dug the hole
but you pushed me into it
now i’m stuck down here
buried in this mess