"The desert bears only a scathing sun, and nothing more."
"What about mirages?"

Saturday, March 12, 2016


She could break my heart
into 1000 pieces
and I would pick
them all up,
number them 0 to 999
press them back together
with superglue
and bent up euphemisms
and drop my heart
right back in her hands.
She said
"I could never do that to you."
But you did.
Over and over.
Every day.
Until I couldn't find all the pieces
And it wouldn't matter anyways
cause you can only fix
a broken thing
so many times before
it becomes unrecognizable.

1 comment:

  1. Publishable. Did you read what I just wrote? Read it again.


"Write with our backs to the wind and our faces to the hard, bleaching sun."