.
Empty,
this heart is desolate
a barren wasteland
of what ifs and waiting
for words no longer needed,
no longer wanted,
no longer heard
poetic failures
from a poetic failure,
crawling, pleading,
fading fast
Sun bleached and brittle,
in an instant
all is gone,
lost to the shifting sands,
deserted, abandoned,
cast aside as bones
begging for flesh,
for blood, for breaths,
chewed and spit
by the scavengers,
taking what is not theirs,
feasting on the loser,
laughing at his tears
Such a sight,
he bought it, all of it,
the promises, the lies
disguised as dreams,
shiny lures, bait…taken
at this dry lake bed,
blistering shores,
blinded by her vision,
walking away,
sorry
Still hearing the echoes. . .
he’s got a gold mine,
a poetic gold mine,
you’ve got dust,
beige, drab dust,
minute particles,
filling your pockets,
weighing down steps,
lower into the sand,
waving goodbye
To a love
that turned out to be a mirage,
as the oasis crumbles
(the oasis crumbles)
beneath black wings,
beaded eyes
still circling overhead,
calling his name
orbiting his life,
hungry for his death,
licking parched lips
caked and crackling
stealing everything
held in his heart,
picked clean,
empty