sever

“I am as my hands are; twisting in on themselves and bursting at the seams. I can-not contain the ache for sensation, just as I could not contain the grief as I fell, nor the agony as I crawled my way back to this rocky countryside, and lo! I am on my way there again now. I am, I am, I am!”

it’s there, driving through the single lane roads. amongst the fields. the farms. the mountainless horizon. the clouds against that hot blue sky. there—that’s when i feel it. it’s there, when the leather on my steering wheel is hot from the southern sun. it’s there, in the awe clouding my eyes as i drive through another small town with stories far more intriguing than mine. it’s there, in the silo on the main street. it’s there, in the cracked pavement and the canyons snaking across the asphalt. it’s there, in the rickety houses with the uncut lawns and the chain link fences.