In The Yard


Blistering heat from a liquid sun,

That has burned up thoughts,

My eyes, their soul and my fun.

What brought on this sanguine approach?

Lost crouching and encroaching on sad joys and lost hope,

I’ve spun out my wheels into newly made glass,

Sand heated to molten,

Razing a shimmering patch.

Skidded to halt over stones constructed as ruts,

My misery shines through soaked in blood, tears, and guts.

Systematic breakdown of holy while high,

Head snapping, throat shaking, body trembling, while I –

Stagger to golden notes,

Choke quietly on the last strand of hope,

Chase goals through my screams,

Praying each daymare fades to a dream,

Balance desperately on life’s beam.

Stable for now,

Scared to say how.

Each breath shoves me closer to the edge,

Welling up my sweet desperate pledge,

To my kids and myself –

“I’ll change this life to a road followed out of hell.”

My mind and spirit can shatter,

Leave me mad as Alice’s hatter –

And though clouds block her burn,

To touch that blistering heat of our liquid hot sun,

Is to what I aspire and yearn.

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