How will I hear myself scream
if I keep burying myself in the dirt of
what I have believed my life has become

I wish so hard at times
that I had another moment with my memories
so as to replace the anguish of the past
and the horrible decisions
choices
that have created this tainted perspective
and have licked away my briny tears

I feel like I always hear someone screaming at the door
banging away
but every time I answer
it seems to be emptiness

When reality feels so real
it does not exist
but when my wandering mind gets lost
in the salt lakes of contagious fantasy
it has taste, smell

I have a day and a moment in my life now
for the mistakes I have made in the past
for every mistake
ticking out loud
the metronome of the sickle’s heat
the water always seemingly getting closer
the sky lower
the pain deeper

We are bred to chase the past
delaminating that melody that heals the ache
that wants rather than believes

How will I ever hear anything
if this breathe I hold dries like cement in my veins
and hardens my bones as much as it has my will?

af

(written with pen on paper)