Tears of grief
I wail
I spit upon broken promises, past and future
Alone
Worn out from the game
Enraged at it all
But more so at myself
Alone
Day after day after day
Month after month after month
No end in sight
Alone
So, I quit
No more will I apply the band aids
No more will I try "the next thing"
Alone
I awake the following day
A shield encases my heart
Now into its death
Alone
I later rouse my body
To clothe itself, layer upon layer
Laborious labor to keep warm in the elements
Alone
I must gas up Sir Edward
For my appointment tomorrow
Maybe the outing will help me
Alone
As I drive the back route out of Rolling Hills
I witness, right next to the street in a yard
Eight sacred black vultures
And a dead raccoon
Once again, nature speaks to me
These sacred winged creatures have come
To feed upon the carrion
Within my broken, deadened heart
For a moment
I feel seen
No longer
Alone
