‘after it’
Sweat
Pouring down
On my split fa ce
I almost forgot the why, the reason for toiling in hot sand
Rusty nails splitting fingers, tainted blood
Biting sun resting, gnawing on tense shoulders
The weight of the world is a growing boulder
time doesn’t exist but I still grow older
bruising on my right thigh feels so right, so good
at least the man is still alive and thinking
don’t forget you’re not alone, there are wandering eyes
Expecting spirits expecting much too much
For me anyways, just how much do I matter?
A spec of dust or a trove of memories?
A fleeting maniac or a cherished friend?
Suicidal idolization of the void beyond
It’s where the happiness lies and the truth doesn’t hurt
It’s where I won’t get hurt, so trivial it doesn’t matter
But I remember it now
The why
The peeling of burned shoulders
Bones crushing under more boulders
Solemnly slipping in scorching sand
Bruises turn purple and tender
I find solace growing older with you
You’re why
About the Creator
Jose Arriaga
Poet and filmmaker. I love to craft stories that capture the beauty and absurdity of every day life.
<3
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