#tamarind fall

a barrenness unnoticed empty space between stretching, hollow-like void untouched by trace of green;

filled with rage and bitter anguish for a rain seldom seen soils weep for wish of rapture silver fog rolling in;

I see nothing no more wool of despair pulled over my eyes for the sake of existence, I exist breathing flame into strife;

the river moved into another body poured itself out of my hands hiding, preserving from agony before disquiet turns to sand.

lillies move towards the sun- away from semblance of agony leaves fall, souls untethered crushed by sheets of teeth;

plush undergrowth filled with splatter poison climbing up trees till all is coarse scatter lined with grease.

stakes cropping from the ground mistakes abound afire revelations, buried tombstones wilted heart, pyre;

acorns fall to the ground urging, begging, to grow no waters reach these lands no promise left to glow;

they seek and I am found, although, never truly too dead for resurrection too dead to ever breathe.

There is a gnawing in my chest that I can't quite place. It eats its way into my heart, hollows me from within, whispers to me in a tone that renders me raw and open, like a wirebrush against scarred skin. I wonder if everyone else feels this way, drawing bridges to human connection through shallow cordialities, coating themselves with a layer of fresh paint each time they have to step out of the structure of their own selves to reach and adapt to someone else's. I wonder how long it took them to perfect their smiles, their gestures, movements, speech, even empathy. A voice snaps me back to reality, "Hey, is everything okay?", and my eyes reacquaint themselves to the people around me, laughing, teasing, catching each other up on their own lives, filled glasses in their hands or on the table, sparkle in their eyes. I smile, "Yep, all good.", and I watch them all, comfortable in their own skin, as I squirm uneasily in my own, my body longing to be elsewhere. I wish I could settle back in, savour the company of those who love me, feel like I belong. But this discomfort overwhelms me. Knowing I can't be as grateful as they deserve, weighs me down. And I fear I'll be forever reaching for something to fill the void, falling short of anything that feels real.