I hear the cicada
The birds chirping
The breeze

I feel you in this place

The heat is unbearable
And I am suffocating
But the flowers...

There is a scent of you here

I miss you

But there is a stench
An awful terrible something
In the air

The scent of death

And death isn't something beautiful
It's brutal
And painful
And tears at your eyes
As the Tears spill put
Flooding your face.

I hear the cicada
Deafening me
I feel the breeze
Wasting away and

I feel you here
And, God
This isn't easy.