I’ve wasted far too many tears
On seeds that don’t believe
Caressing memories
And yet I’m trying to scoop them up
Bury them in my bosom
Carry them in my sleeves
Preparing for yet another forecast of rain
But I can’t
And I try
But I can’t
Remembering how to cry is foreign
So I watch as tears crawl downwards
Between my fingers in search of another
To welcome them home
Cause I don’t anymore
For I can only see
the orange-crimson haze
Peeking from the earth’s edge
Patting the ground dry
Absorbing my anxiety
Wrestling with my storms
Holding them at bay
And telling me
To hurry
Run away
Walk on by
Walk on by the past
Open your eyes to this day
© Erika Gresham 12/18/09
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