When whispers turn to screams
The silence between each breath is deafening.
Senses suddenly heighten and explode as we collide
and collapse into fog.
The clouds that used to catch us now sink within themselves,
immersing us in the storm within.
There’s nothing that can be done now but to wait for the crows
to pick over the carcasses,
the remnants of us.
I envision our headstone rising from the mossy ground
as I fall endlessly through the murky mist,
engulfed in and choking on every memory
and dream
and hope
and wish
and failure.
Torrential rains and thorny branches thrash across my face
As I foolishly pray for balance, for solitude;
For I am now the wind,
Turbulent and tumbling,
drowning within the cloud that used to catch me -
that used to catch us.

03/01/2011

Posted on 03/01/2011
Copyright © 2024 Angie Jenkins