It is quiet
It is 𝘲 𝘶 𝘪 𝘦 𝘵 and I cannot fight it
I stare the sandy void
In its 𝘦 𝘺 𝘦 𝘴 and I
And I
And I 𝘴 𝘤 𝘳 𝘦 𝘢 𝘮
At the endless dunes
The grit in my face and my teeth and my hair and I
And I
And I wait for a boon but it’s not coming soon
Who knew that the moon looks like a cartoon
When you 𝘨 𝘢 𝘻 𝘦 at it too long
I could write a song
About it but I’ve ran out of music
Choose it, I would have to choose it
But I can’t make decisions when I have this incision
Visions, they cut with surgical precision
The wind 𝘩 𝘰 𝘸 𝘭 𝘴 at me so I 𝘩 𝘰 𝘸 𝘭 back
And I’ve lost track
Of where I am
Of who I am
But I still
I still
I still must 𝘴 𝘵 𝘢 𝘳 𝘦 the void in its eyes…

Oh, but it’s just another desert night.

There’s a deep forest path that
lingers
just for a bit,

somewhere between stable and healthy

and in walking that path
one may find himself
growing

much like the foliage;
trees, yawning
and vines, curious, spread wild

breathing life
and air
and motion

until the path disappears
and diminishing greens
turn to sullen brown

and the desert looms

deep breaths are unyielding
motion is muddy
it doesn’t feel quite right

seeing forever isn’t as grand
when there’s not
much to see

it’s so much bigger
than the forest seemed to be,
isn’t it?

The call of the desert is wild
The sea relentless
Mountains peek unreachable
Wind blows my tears away
Sunset always beautiful

In hollow valleys, off the distant peaks
Down in the dim woods, braiding canopies

In the quietude of slow-dancing leaves
Through the howling and raging of the winds

Across plateau of no growth or decline
along blind, chiseled cliff, a cul-de-sac

In the triumphant reach of high summit
Between the rocky canyons of defeat

Grace at every gaze despite long travails,
dazed in wonder, never cease to amaze

In the bone-parched deserts, devoid of life
Out of flowing streams, rivers without strife

At the depth where lights dwindle to nothing
On familiar shore radiant weathering

In jubilant rejoicing when love wins
Even through the painful cuts as it stings

At the plain of anxious waiting and doubt,  
In tiresome striving to glorious thriving

As it always has, Mercy will carry
Crushed, it wont let me be; though tears may tarry

It’s red and burnt and there’s nothing more beautiful.
You look like an oasis.
I feel myself melting the second I see your face.
It’s like I’m baking in this oven and there’s nothing more lovely.
You smell like all of my favorite foods with a voice like honey.
You wear my favorite color well and with every passing moment I can feel my heart swell.
I find myself aching to see you smile and to make you laugh.
I would love for you to be as fond of me as I have grown of you even if the feeling is only at half.
When the trumpets roar I feel this sense of peace and I think of the words you say so little yet they leave me building these cathedrals of utterance about you.
There lay no cracks or puddles of grease;
The glasswork is blazing and brilliant with how you attract my attention.
I would build for you a place that displays the warmth I feel that I forbear to mention.
You’re enchanting,
Something to look forward to,
And someone my heart won’t let me forget.
This impression has lasted since the day we met.

if you live in a desert
any mirage is beautiful
even knowing it as an illusion
making plans around
how it will change your life
make you happier
than you have ever been
when you arrive
it dissipates
so you can start looking
for the next one