The lines on my face are deep and winding canyons.
Which lead to a past of a million emotions.
A baron river that used to rage.
With depths unseen in an earthly ocean.
My eyes tell of a future not yet seen.
Where tears produce tears of their own.
Funerals, graves, and me walking away.
From everyone and everything, only after they’ve gone.
Gravity leaves my threadlike strands.
So they stand and float and face the sun.
Higher they reach with a sudden rush.
And in a single breathe they come undone.
My aching bones seem to foreshadow.
A physical pain that’s sure to increase.
But the emotional pain signals the end.
Of a future felt, but not seen in the least.