I just can’t…

by on April 19, 2019 :: 0 comments

I had the weather channel on
for an hour and I feel
like every memory I hold is
anvil heavy, every tear
flowing across Interstate 10,
every bad day I owned, is
day one for the unaware

survivors have rights, unpaid
freedom charged against the horrors

my tongue is black
tomorrow will never come
and your best dream is
swirling in a gutter of disbelief

it looks like rain

editors note:

Black skies, black tongue. Need a soul slicker to weather these storms. – mh clay

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