In the small hours of the morning as i feel consumed with fear and rage as i stare into dark morning skies and weep. Weep like child lost in the desert.
I can still hear the wolves constant heart beat, waiting to feast at my slightest misstep. My home is no longer my home my heart is no longer my heart and my head is forever loss in a sea of radiation and poisons made by man and kissed by the devil himself.
You always leave when i need you most. Forevermore am i consumed with fire and rain. The flowers will be my forgiving friends as i paint with the wind in my hair and sun on my back.
Bury me beneath the old oaks so i can find the reason why this life comes in such colours only i can see. And why does it rain words faster than i can catch… Such a waste.
“I miss you when you leave.”
“A life in progress.”