i need some water to quench my thirsty pain it has refused to stop swelling within the gaps around my ribs forming hard bubbles as it swallows me in cocoons me safely into stiff crooked mazes dark heartless halls all of which my mind makes for fun barriers extended, walls constructed to let out only segments of hell
this weak and cracked silver dryland can’t begin no shiny harvest the crops will die the hope will follow the soil is weak the words are hollow my sweet, my love, how are you doing? i’m fine, i’m fine, i’m doing fine i sew my tongue into the roof of my mouth and bend my lips into the back of my tight throat beat stubborn tears into watery eyes and blame the wind the fan spits out
mother, father - we are in a shattered season of separate flatlands and heavy skies will we ever be unobscured by forced laughs and family gatherings? by hills or mountains or sunday church?
may this air force bold breath out of me and you? no ordinary small talk will prevent my rage any longer not my small quiet voice from getting larger we need to speak of the sickness in our heads or we surely will die on separate flatlands on words unsaid