I can't remember a time, when the haze of retribution
didn't fill the sky. When the cold damp fear of
despair and guilt didn't creep into every pore. Even my
bones feel brittle and tired.
My eyes are heavy from the sleepless nights, willing
myself to stay awake, desperate to keep the dreams
away. But nightmares live outside of dreams,
they whisper in the darkness, as I shiver in the cold
shadows of fear.
Outside used to mean sunshine and a welcomed
breeze. Before the haze. Before the earth
swallowed me whole. Deep in the darkest of places,
my arms wrapped around my knees.
No one see's me, no one hears.
My mouth is dry. Shallow breathes become fewer as
salt-filled tears reach my lips and choke me.
"I'm here!" I cry. My words lost in the haze.
No one hears me. No one sees.
Soon this earth will consume me, I will become
its roots, slowly ascending, and covering the world.
My eyes are heavy. They want to close. I'm scared.
Sleep comes with dreams, painted in faded colors, a
bitter reminder, of a time, when I once felt warmth.