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Jan 2012
Dying of dehydration in a desert with only your tears to save me,
I wouldn’t make you cry.
I would let the sun evaporate my soul, just so I could rain down on you;
Droplets of loyalty shower your face but you deflect me with an umbrella shield.
So the sewer becomes me and I am a river.
Flowing always in your direction.
All metaphors and thoughts that you will never know
And more importantly never understand.
So next time I know to keep away from the desert sand.
Molly McCarthy
Written by
Molly McCarthy
621
   Taryn Kraus
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