The Desert

If I said these words
Out loud
Could I listen to myself?
Smell the venom on my breath.
Tuneless grace notes sing
Telling me I’m still alright,
Telling me I’m still alive.
Melodies lost through windless haze

Stepping from sigh to honest sigh,
Under clouds perspiring dry,
Wistfully aware of their own mortality.

“You’re next, you’re next”
Sung the vultures.
“Rest your heavy head
For when you drop dead
We feast on breathless flesh.”

And still the desert of my mind
Surrounds the periphery of my eyes
With yet no end in sight.

But open windows
Let air both in and out,
Grey lights enveloping natural colour,
While closed curtains lock me away.

With legs like weights,
The taste of sand,
I stumble on stray emotions.
The stream of consciousness
Contaminated.

“You’re next, you’re next”
Still sing the vultures.
“Rest your heavy head
For when you drop dead
We feast on breathless flesh.”

And still the desert of my mind
Surrounds the periphery of my eyes
With yet no end in sight.

It’s been this way for quite some time
And yet no end in sight.

{ Citizen Erased }