another tuesday morning*

i wake up with
a dry mouth, i turn
to my left and
stretch my arm out

i reach for her
but she's hardly there,
what's left of her
slips through my
brittle fingers

it's been a week
and now
she's finally
said goodbye;

filling the desert
valleys from day
to night

hardly anything
dare swims in the
trenches of my heart

i cry out from the
hollowness of my being,--

where the light
looks and feels
no different than
the dark

and all that remains
is an echo; like the
smallest stone that
forms ripples

on a lonely pond

at the end of
world