in the desert

April 6, 2017 § Leave a comment

One rolls down my cheek.

I didn’t make an effort to stop the others from following.  The tears somehow quenched my soul, though it was never enough and I wanted them to keep on going.  My heart was pillaged by the vultures of fate, but I didn’t want to forget.  I wanted to remember the pain because it was a consequence of a happiness worth keeping.  Unlike how I dealt with the others in the past, this time I was willing to walk with it.  Like an old shirt I’d never bother changing out from.  Like a scar from a battle that left an impression.  Like that extra ear pierce I’ve always been planning.  If someone finds me along the way, in that unlikely event, then I can only hope they’ll be able to accept the decrepit state I will be in.  For underneath will always be the hope that I run into the same oasis.  Not a kind Samaritan.

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You are currently reading in the desert at by my two feet.

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